


Two on a Couch

by IJM



Category: General Hospital
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:54:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21915565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IJM/pseuds/IJM
Summary: After a traumatic year, Elizabeth and Franco go to therapy as a couple.
Relationships: Franco and Elizabeth Baldwin
Comments: 36
Kudos: 33





	1. Round One

**Author's Note:**

> Not for profit. No claim of ownership of characters. For entertainment purposes only.
> 
> Also, I'm excited about this because I feel it's the most I have ever connected to Elizabeth's character in a story. I hope you will enjoy it.

Franco and Elizabeth Baldwin sat together in Kevin Collin’s office. Kevin looked expectantly at them. They exchanged trepidatious glances with each other.

And the silence continued.

Kevin studied the couple. They were sitting close to each other, hands clasped together. Franco’s eyes darted from one place to another in this office that was familiar to him, but not a place he spent time with his wife. Elizabeth mostly watched her husband and occasionally implored Kevin with a pleading glance to say something.

“Elizabeth told me you needed to come in together to discuss some problems you’re facing. Would one of you like to elaborate?”

Elizabeth nudged Franco with her shoulder.

“If this isn’t something you both want to do, there’s no point in wasting your time. Do you want to be here, Franco?”

“No,” he answered.

Elizabeth sighed.

He squeezed her hand more tightly. “But I _need_ to be.”

Elizabeth sighed again, but it was with relief.

“Can you tell me where this hesitation is coming from?” Kevin prodded. “You and I have been down some very, very dark roads before. I believe that, overall, our work has been produced positive results.”

“I can’t sleep,” Franco admitted.

Kevin noted that he ignored answering why he was hesitant to be in therapy but used the information he had been given. “Do you have any idea what is keeping you awake?”

“Me.”

“You?”

“I don’t _want_ to sleep.”

Kevin nodded slightly. “To sleep, perchance to dream?”

“A pretty damn good chance.” He rubbed his eyes with his free hand.

“You’re having nightmares?”

Franco looked to Elizabeth.

“More like night terrors,” she supplied. He thrashes around in our bed. He’s sweating, mumbling, talking, screaming, and somehow trapped. I can’t wake him up.”

“Elizabeth tried to wake me up a couple of weeks ago and… I pushed her so hard she fell off the bed.”

“But he was _asleep_ ,” Elizabeth told Kevin and reminded Franco. “I wasn’t hurt.”

Kevin nodded. Elizabeth wanted to be clear that she did not feel that Franco was a physical threat to her. “Who were you pushing away from you in your dream?”

Franco rolled his eyes because he was embarrassed by his answer. “Uncle Jim, I guess. It’s usually Uncle Jim.”

“Usually?”

“They’re just dreams,” Franco shrugged. He hoped Kevin would not tell him the faces and bodies in his subconscious were based in some dark yet undiscovered reality.

“Franco, whatever is at the core of this, we will find it, confront it, and get through it. You have the greatest support system in the world.”

Franco squeezed Elizabeth’s hand again. “I know.”

“They’re not called night _terrors_ without reason. It’s a serious condition that can be detrimental to your overall health.”

“Am I going to be like this for the rest of my life?” The words came quickly, as if Franco had been holding in the question for a very long time, but it had to wrestle itself into the open.

“Like _what_?”

“Plagued by my past? At some point, aren’t you supposed to outgrow this?”

“There’s no age limit on post traumatic disorder or anxiety or depression or grief.”

“Elizabeth got over it. She doesn’t fight off Tom Baker every night. Thank God she doesn’t relive that suffering. I just want to know _how_ , so I can move on too.” Franco knew that Kevin was familiar with Elizabeth’s history of being raped, as were most of the long-time residents of Port Charles. She had specifically told him it was okay to talk about it with Kevin.

“I’ve tried to tell him that my situation is very different. It happened one time.”

“You were still a kid.”

“I was fifteen,” Elizabeth reminded him. “You were little more than a _baby_. And you were assaulted _repeatedly_ for years by a man your mother brought into your home and professed to love. You had the pressure of protecting your mother and brother on your shoulders. You had no support whatsoever—no medical treatment, no psychiatric care, no one to confide in, no one to cry to, no one to trust, no one to share your pain or fears or tell you that you weren’t alone and that you weren’t the only person in the world living in that demented hell he created.”

“People handle trauma differently. Everything Elizabeth is saying is true.”

“I think there’s more to it,” Franco said. “Elizabeth is strong and reasonable. I want to be like her and _move on_. I just don’t know how to get there. There’s something wrong with me.”

“This is a good place to start,” Kevin assured them both. “You know how you just said that Elizabeth is reasonable?”

He nodded.

“Then why don’t you take your strong, reasonable wife at her word when she tells you that your circumstances have been drastically different? That’s something you need to consider when you think you haven’t met some arbitrary time limit to call yourself healed. It’s not a race. It’s not a fair or level playing field. Your struggle to heal doesn’t minimize Elizabeth’s trauma. Don’t let her trauma minimize yours. You are both people who have been hurt and fought like hell to survive.”

“I don’t need this in my life. She doesn’t need my problems—one thing after another—dragging her down.”

“Don’t tell me what I don’t need,” Elizabeth interrupted and let go of his hand. She moved a few inches down the sofa. She wanted him to look at her and really hear her. “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me and my boys. You have a troubled past and you have been through so much heartache in the last year. But you are fundamentally a decent, loving, wonderful man who puts me and our boys ahead of everything. You make us happy. You make _me_ happy. Right now, you’re denying yourself sleep because you’re so damn afraid you might hurt me while you’re dreaming.”

Elizabeth paused, shaking her head. “You know, neither one of us had ideal families. But I can tell you one thing for certain—you don’t abandon your family because they have an inconvenient problem to sort through. When you do that, you become my parents. I will _never_ be like them. Just like you will _never_ be like Jim Harvey or your delusional, self-centered mother.”

Kevin clearly saw the door Elizabeth had opened and stepped right through it. “Elizabeth, you were essentially abandoned by your parents. That has certainly impacted your life.”

“Of course, it did,” Elizabeth answered. “It made me angry, rebellious, desperate to be loved, willing to accept whatever crumbs of affection I could get because I thought being _low_ on someone’s priority list was better than being _nowhere_ on _anyone’s_ priority list. I’ve never felt good enough, smart enough, or strong enough.”

“Your mom and dad are idiots. You are all of those things and more.”

“They obviously don’t agree with you.” Elizabeth’s tone was sharp. There were some deep wounds in her own life. She was not always as put together as her husband said she was.

Kevin studied the exchange closely. “Elizabeth, do you feel pressure to be this perfect woman that Franco sees?”

She was startled by the question. They both were.

Franco sucked in his breath sharply. He had never realized that his unadulterated adoration of her created an ideal that was impossible to meet.

She was quiet, carefully considering her response. “Franco has always seen the positive in me and dismissed the negative. He loves me so much that he wants me to love myself just as much. That’s not bad. It’s maybe… _unrealistic_?” She was hesitant. Franco took personal criticism as extremely as he lavished praise on others.

“I’m sorry,” Franco told her. “I didn’t realize I was hurting you.”

“Oh, honey,” Elizabeth sighed. “It’s not that you were hurting me. I just can’t live up to the perfect wife, perfect mother, perfect nurse, perfect lover that you seem to think I am.”

One corner of his mouth twisted into a smile. “Remember when Kevin said I had to consider that we have had drastically different circumstances?”

She nodded. “We have.”

“Yeah,” he reminded her. “We have. I kind of can’t help but compare you to my mother. You never put your children in danger by bringing a pedophile into your home. You never sent one kid away because you thought another was troubled. When Jake had problems, you got him help. You didn’t stick your head in the sand and pretend everything was okay and just wait for him to self-destruct. You didn’t let a man dictate Jake’s treatment to you. You did what was best for Jake. I know you would choose to protect your children over anything some man told you because you are perceptive and diligent and protective of the people you love. My mother was even a nurse. But she bought black market babies from a criminally insane woman.” His background was tragic, but he laughed anyway. “So, maybe my perception of women is a little skewed. I never meant to pressure you to be something more than you are. Everything you are already blows my mind. Just that you _exist_ is a miracle.”

Elizabeth laughed too and cuddled into his embrace. “Well, _comparatively speaking_ , I guess I am pretty awesome.” She was aware of Betsy’s repetitive failures, but Franco was rarely harsh about her. He loved the woman with all her faults. She had never considered that every woman he met was inevitably compared to Betsy.

Kevin checked his clock. “I hate to cut this conversation off now because I feel like we are really making some headway. But I want to address the issue that brought you in.”

“The night terrors,” Elizabeth said.

“Right.” He made eye contact with Franco. “Sleep is not optional. Your physical and mental health will deteriorate if you don’t rest.”

“Sleeping pills?” Franco asked.

“No. Sleeping pills can actually make things worse. First, we try more environmental, behavioral, and holistic approaches. A sleep study may be in order to rule out an underlying medical condition.”

“No.” Franco objected.

Kevin was momentarily taken aback. “It could provide valuable information about the frequency, your response…”

“No,” Franco interrupted him. “If you think I’m going to crawl into a strange bed and let strangers watch me sleep you’re crazier than I am. I think we all know the source of my nightmares is emotional, not physical.”

Kevin conceded that Franco would not be comfortable in a traditional sleep study setting. “Okay. How about if other methods are ineffective, then you agree to a sleep study.”

“No.”

Elizabeth jabbed him with her elbow.

He caught her eye and shook his head slightly. “Fine.” His affirmative response was for Elizabeth, not Kevin.

“Elizabeth, this will seem counterintuitive and maybe even cruel. When Franco is having a night terror, do not wake him up.”

“What?” she gasped. “That is extremely cruel. You haven’t seen him. You want me to let him suffer and beg for help and just do nothing?”

“They’re dreams. You both would be in more physical danger if you raised your voice or shook him or reached out to touch him.”

She turned to Franco. “I don’t know if I can ignore what you’re going through.”

“I didn’t say ignore it,” Kevin interjected. “If you are woken up—and it sounds like you will be—keep a journal. Note what time he’s dreaming, how long it lasts, any movements, any words. I want you to take off your wife hat and put on your nurse’s hat. Be as specific and clinical as possible. That will give us valuable information to guide our treatment plan.”

“I’m sorry,” Franco said softly.

“Stop apologizing,” Elizabeth told him. “We’re in this together.”

“Franco, you have homework too. Write down or dictate into your phone everything you remember when you wake up. Names, faces, places, what happened. Don’t censor yourself for my sake. I’m aware of your past. Honesty will give us clarity.”

He nodded, already dreading discussing the visions in his mind.

“Next—both of you need to make sure your bedroom is a safe, relaxing environment. The bed is for sleep and sex and communication—but only with each other. No phones. No TV. No screens at all. I know you can’t be unreachable when you have kids but put the phone down at least an hour before you want to go to sleep and don’t pick it up unless it rings.”

They nodded. That was practical.

“Reduce stress. The boys are all old enough to understand that your bedroom is private and not to intrude unless there is an emergency. Try reading or meditation. I had one client who responded incredibly well to her husband talking her to sleep. The couple bonded over their conversations and the woman was lulled into a feeling of security.” He smiled. “As an aside, the husband said he bored his wife to sleep… but I say don’t knock it if it works.”

“We talk in bed,” Elizabeth told him.

“Go beyond your day and the kids. Pick random subjects. Favorite _Star Wars_ movie. First concert. Ever met a celebrity? Would you rather be hopped on by 1,000 two-pound rabbits or one one-ton rabbit?”

“Would all 1,000 rabbits hop on me at the same time?” Franco asked.

“Discuss that with your wife.” Kevin directed.

“Cool.”

Elizabeth laughed. They had come to see Kevin because Franco was miserable, not sleeping, and going through a personal hell. Now he was excited about a thousand rabbits. That was _her_ Franco and she loved every bit of him. She was relieved to have gotten some important things said and felt like there were going to be positive changes happening soon.


	2. Round Two

One week later, Franco and Elizabeth were back with Kevin. They sat together on the couch while he looked over the notes that Elizabeth had made.

Franco’s heart was beating too fast as he waited for Kevin to bring up the night terrors. He held Elizabeth’s hand, but every so often would let go to wipe his palm on his jeans because he thought that his hands were sweating.

They weren’t. Even if they had been, Elizabeth would not have been bothered. As a nurse and a mother of three boys, she had dealt with far worse than a sweaty palm. Every time he broke contact, she took his hand again.

While taking notes, Elizabeth had seen a pattern that Franco usually woke her up around 2:00 a.m. either by mumbling or by fighting someone who wasn’t physically there. He mumbled, but never said anything that she could clearly understand.

Franco’s notes were barely existent. He kept track of waking up drenched in sweat or with his heart racing. He could never pinpoint exactly what he was dreaming.

Kevin looked up and tapped his fingers on the desk. He took off his reading glasses and set them aside. “So, what did you decide?”

“Decide?” Elizabeth repeated.

“About the rabbits?”

“Oh! One thousand two-pound rabbits,” she answered. “The chance of survival is much better.”

“One giant rabbit,” Franco answered. “All those bunnies are hopping at one time. Just squash me and get it over with.”

“Interesting.” Kevin looked amused. He noticed their frequently moving hands and the quiet intimacy they maintained.

“Wasn’t that just for fun?” Elizabeth asked. They had enjoyed their bunny debate, weighing the pros and cons through a lot of laughter and made up scenarios.

Franco was convinced that the question implied that all the bunnies were going to hop on him at one time while Elizabeth contended that there were no governing rules in the question. While it had seemed like a silly thing to discuss at length, it gave them a break from real world problems.

Kevin smirked. “I think it tells something about both of you. Elizabeth, you’re an optimist-realist. You think you can survive if you handle the problems by juggling them as life throws them at you.”

“Uh-oh,” Franco muttered.

Kevin turned toward him. “You—you tend to be a fatalist. You expect the worst and you want to get through it as quickly as possible.”

“So, I picked the wrong answer?”

“It’s not right or wrong. It’s an insight into your thought process as shaped by your experiences. Elizabeth has been dealt many blows and fought her way through them.” He pointedly asked Elizabeth, “Do you recall any point in your life where you felt secure?”

Elizabeth answered quickly. “Sure. I was happy when I was a little kid. Sarah and I were just typical sisters when we were little. Sometimes we fought about stupid things like which My Little Pony was mine or hers and then my mom would tell us to share or she’d take them all away. I wasn’t _afraid_ though.” She looked at Franco. “I feel secure since I’ve been with Franco—most of the time. I mean, there have been some rough patches. But I don’t doubt how much he loves me and the boys. I’m not afraid that he would ever choose to walk out on us. I know he loves me like no one in my life ever has before. He been a more consistent father to the boys than Jason or Lucky have ever been.” She didn’t bother mentioning Zander.

Franco smiled, pulled her a little closer, and kissed her temple. Making Elizabeth happy and giving her a sense of security was the best thing he had ever accomplished.

Kevin posed the same question to Franco. “Do you remember a time in your life when you felt secure?”

Franco shook his head. “This is as close as I have ever been.” He traced a finger over Elizabeth’s forearm. “And even now, I fear I’ll lose this. Not because of Elizabeth or anything she would do. I’m waiting for the next attack from the outside.”

Elizabeth sighed. There were no guarantees in life. Yet, she sincerely hoped that Kevin would help Franco see that living in fear of the unknown was unproductive. His anxiety tormented him. He was able to keep it from affecting the kids. However, she knew that _tortured artist_ was not just a cliché he used to refer to himself.

“You expect the worst that can happen _will_ happen because your early negative experiences were catastrophically damaging. We can retrain your expectations so that you don’t see a two-pound rabbit as just one in a fatal onslaught. We can work on more coping skills.”

“I told you they didn’t all have to hop at once.” Elizabeth snickered, teasing him only because she knew he wanted to change. He wanted to be more like her, and he could start with adopting her approach to the rabbits.

“You’re usually right,” Franco conceded.

“Elizabeth, how have things been for you in the last week? Do you see any positive or negative changes?”

“I really enjoy our random conversations at night.” She did a Google search for “random questions” and found a plethora of ideas. She laughed, thinking of the subjects they had tackled. “You think you know the person you married… but I found out the stupidest thing Franco ever did on a dare was eat a ghost pepper. Or try to.” She laughed.

“I gave up after one bite. You started smoking.” He goaded her. “I can’t believe you smoked a cigarette and got addicted! Your whole family is in the medical profession.”

“I was rebellious,” she reminded him. “You like my rebellious side.”

“I certainly do,” he agreed.

“I’m not the least bit surprised that you ate something stupid,” she added. “I’m only surprised that _that_ is the stupidest thing you’ve ever done on a dare.” Her sassiness was endearing to her husband.

“I couldn’t taste anything for two weeks,” he reminded her.

Kevin noted to himself that Franco could easily laugh at himself with Elizabeth, whereas he often took criticism from other people more severely. He saw a lightness in Elizabeth’s demeanor that he had never seen before in all the years they had known each other.

“Any negatives?” Kevin asked. He was pleased that Elizabeth’s first thought was the positive outcomes of their last session.

“He’s still having nightmares. I know something is hurting my husband and neither one of us can figure out what it is. That’s why we need your help. This is more than just sleep problems. There’s something he has repressed.” She paused, “Not that I’m trying to do your job,” she added. Doctors hated to be told a diagnosis by a nurse or a patient. She had been chastised many times in her career for overstepping boundaries.

Kevin shifted his tone as he shifted the conversation. “Franco, you were doing pretty well for a while, but now you have this new burden. I suspect there’s been a trigger in your life that provoked the night terrors. I’m concerned the trigger may have been physically caused by the memory mapping procedure. With your permission, I could consult with Dr. Maddox—"

“I know what the trigger was,” he stopped Kevin and looked to Elizabeth. She nodded.

Kevin raised his eyebrows, waiting for the answer.

Franco took his wife’s hand. “I don’t remember anything about the months between having Drew’s memories put in my brain and having Drew’s memories erased from my brain.” He paused. “For me, it was August and then it was December. There’s nothing at all in between.”

Kevin nodded.

“I… well, not _me_. I wasn’t there. I wasn’t making _any_ decisions for myself. But Drew had sex with Kim.” He grimaced. “Elizabeth knew about it and she told me.”

Kevin inhaled. “Your body was violated.”

“Again.” Franco added.

“Maybe I should not have told him?” Elizabeth asked. “Did I do the wrong thing? Would he be better off not knowing?”

“Well,” Kevin paused. “What do you think? I’m asking Elizabeth.” He knew Franco would jump in and defend whatever Elizabeth did, so he preemptively stopped him from responding to the question. “Why did you tell him? I’m sure you had a reason.”

Elizabeth’s memories flashed to the day she walked into Kim’s apartment and saw the crumpled sheets on the floor. She remembered the way “Drew” had no empathy for what he had done to her and her family. Kim was worse—she knew exactly what she was doing. She unapologetically violated someone with brain damage.

“Kim took advantage of him while he was unable to consent. I don’t care how much grief she felt. She knew Franco had just had this experimental procedure done to his brain and we hadn’t even had a chance for him to consult with Dr. Maddox about the implications. She used my husband. It hurt me and it made me angry, not just because of what she did to me, but because of what she did to Franco.” She took a breath to steady her emotions. “Kim doesn’t know his past, but hasn’t he been through enough? And because of his past, and how he repressed those memories and they tormented him his entire life, I thought I had to be honest with him. I thought he had to know so he wouldn’t have to fight another repressed memory. I don’t know if he’ll ever remember, but just the idea that something like that would gnaw at him when I could just be honest and tell him what happened and that I didn’t blame him—” she sighed, feeling the weight of her decision heavily. “It seemed like a much better option than keeping a secret.”

Kevin nodded and was silent for a moment to let them both reflect on what Elizabeth said. “Now that you’ve put into words why you told Franco, what leaves you questioning whether it was the right thing to do?”

Elizabeth thought about how upset Franco was when she told him. “I dropped this bomb on him that he’s still reeling from. What if I opened up some Pandora’s Box from his past?”

“I see Kim as the one who opened the Pandora’s Box,” Kevin told them both. “Franco, do you think Elizabeth was right to tell you what happened with Kim?”

“Of course, she was,” he answered without hesitation. “It hurt her. I need to know about anything that hurts her so we can get through it together. I also need her to know that I would never have done that if I had been able to stop it.”

“I do know that,” Elizabeth interrupted. “I never questioned that at all.”

“It hurt you too,” Kevin reminded Franco. “It’s a deep wound to be revictimized after uncovering your repressed memories.”

“I don’t even know if I’m a victim,” Franco admitted. “She didn’t hold a gun on me or anything.” He added, “I assume,” since he didn’t know any details of what happened.

“Your body was used in a way that you, as Franco, would never have willingly participated in. You’re a victim.”

“Maybe Kim doesn’t see it that way,” Franco offered.

“Kim’s perspective has no relevance to our conversation,” Kevin was emphatic. “We’re here to discuss how this has affected you and Elizabeth.”

“We can do that?” Franco asked. “We can just say, Kim is irrelevant?”

“Absolutely. Jim Harvey told you all he ever did was love you. He told you that you had a special relationship. Do you lend any credence to his perspective?”

Franco’s stomach felt like it flipped, repulsed by words that man had said to him, trying to normalize what he did. “No.” His answer was soft, but sure.

Elizabeth wrapped her arm around his back and rubbed his shoulder. Internally, she fumed when reminded of the way Jim Harvey had manipulated Bobby and so many other children.

“Do you want to try hypnosis to find out what happened?” Kevin offered.

“God, no,” Franco answered quickly. “The idea of it is bad enough.” I don’t want to relive any part of some other entity using me to have sex with her. I would never have agreed to that. Never.” He was suddenly unsure. “Is that wrong? Do I have to remember?”

“No. When we were working on recovering what happened with Jim Harvey, you didn’t know where the story led. You needed the hypnosis to find the truth. With Kim, you know the truth. It’s _okay_ to choose not to experience the pain that those explicit memories would cause you.”

Kevin sensed that Franco was still questioning if he had made the wrong decision. “The goal of hypnosis and the goal of therapy isn’t to relive every horrible experience you ever had in hideous detail. It’s to find the truth, confront the truth, and learn how to cope with it. We forget things to protect ourselves from overwhelming information. Some level of amnesia of our life events is healthy. But sometimes it’s unhealthy. We have to find balance.”

“That makes sense,” Elizabeth agreed. “I’m pretty sure most women would haver have a second baby if we clearly remembered the pain of delivery.”

“Exactly,” Kevin agreed. He turned back to Franco. “You’re experiencing physical symptoms that have a negative impact on your quality of life. As a doctor, my job is to help you heal.”

The couple both nodded their understanding. Sometimes Kevin had to remind his patients that mental health impacts physical health. He was in the job of healing the entire body through his work with the psyche.

“How soon after this revelation of Kim’s actions did your sleep become disturbed?” Kevin asked.

“I had trouble falling asleep from the first night I was home. I was afraid I could close my eyes, disappear again, and hurt my family again. Of course, Elizabeth told me that was stupid.”

“I didn’t say _stupid_ ,” Elizabeth interrupted. “I said _unlikely_.”

“I told you she’s the reasonable one.”

Kevin shrugged. That was, by no means, a surprise.

“She talked me down. Being close to Elizabeth helped me relax. But I started having nightmares and they keep getting worse.”

“Tell me about what you’re dreaming.”

Franco glanced at Elizabeth who nodded to encourage him.

“I can’t move. I can’t speak. But there are voices…” he swallowed. “I’m not a person to them, just a thing. I feel stuff being done to me and I am trying so hard to scream for help or to make them stop. I’m trying to get away.” He kept his eyes down and his legs were moving restlessly.

“I get pulled back down. I hear a man laughing and someone is screaming. They tell me what a worthless piece of crap I am.”

Overcome with a sudden feeling of nausea, he fell to the floor and grabbed Kevin’s garbage can. He didn’t throw up, but he held the trash can close because his stomach was churning.

“It’s okay,” Elizabeth said, on the floor with Franco. “You’re safe. No one is going to hurt you here.” She looked up to Kevin, wondering if he thought this problem was a serious as she did. She was frightened by the things he had told her about his horrifying dreams. Like her husband, she had a sense of doom, that the dreams were foreshadowing part of a darker reality.

Kevin offered his hand to Franco to help him get up from the floor. “Are you going to be okay?” he asked. “I can order a patch for nausea if you need it.”

“I’m sorry,” Franco apologized. He sat back on the couch hugging the small trash can like it was a lifeline.

“It’s normal,” Kevin told him.

“Normal?” Franco repeated.

“Well, barfing into my garbage can is not _unique._ At least you’re just holding it for security.”

“I can’t say I’ve ever had anyone throw up during art therapy.”

“Give it time,” Kevin shrugged.

“Are you two actually joking right now?” Elizabeth asked, perplexed. Kevin seemed so blasé about the idea of counseling someone who was physically ill from his memories. She looked from one man to the other.

Elizabeth exhaled. This was part of their established rapport. Kevin didn’t exacerbate the situation by having an overly affected reaction. “Do you want the patch?” Elizabeth asked, offering to get it from the medication locker.

“No,” he answered. He set the garbage can back on the floor and it made a light thump. “It passed. I wasn’t sure for a few minutes.”

“You should lie down,” Elizabeth encouraged him to rest his head on her lap. She played with his hair, knowing it was soothing for him.

“Close your eyes,” Kevin said. “Take a deep breath and exhale slowly. Just rest for a while.” He had specifically moved Elizabeth and Franco to his last appointment of the day so that he would not have to end the session if they were at a critical point. Knowing Franco’s complex history—including being stabbed by his twin Ryan Chamberlain—Kevin felt he owed it to Franco and Elizabeth to give them his undivided attention.

“Do you want to keep pushing through this, or take a break for today?”

“Keep going,” Franco said, not surprising Kevin or Elizabeth. He was naturally impatient. Franco might fear his past, but he also wanted to find and conquer the two-thousand-pound bunny so he could move on.

After a few more minutes passed, Kevin said, “I want to hypnotize you just to see if you can get a clearer impression of the voices you are dreaming about or if you can recognize a face. Are you willing to try this?”

Franco nodded and allowed himself to be put under hypnosis right there with Elizabeth present. If she was part of the process, she would know everything he did as soon as he did. Both were committed to keeping no secrets from the other.

“You’re completely safe.” Kevin spoke slowly in monotone. “No one is going to harm you. I want you to revisit your recent disturbing dreams.”

Franco’s arms and legs became rigid as his muscles locked. His breaths were rapid, as were the movements of his closed eyes.

“No one can hurt you. I want you to let your body relax. You have the power to speak and describe your dreams. Do you recognize anyone in your dreams?”

“Uncle Jim,” he whispered. His limbs were loose now. He was in a place where there was no physical threat.

“Who else is there?” Kevin asked. He was not looking for explicit descriptions of the abuse Jim Harvey inflicted. His goal was to identify the “voices” and what role they played in Franco’s distress.

“I can’t,” he strained to say the words.

“You’re safe,” Kevin reminded him. “Can you tell me if what is troubling you is a true event from your childhood?”

His lips moved as if he were trying to speak, but there was no sound.

“If you are describing a memory, please hold up one finger. If you are describing a symbolic dream, please hold up two fingers. Your mind knows the difference. Let your subconscious answer.”

Elizabeth held her breath, waiting for his response. Internally, she begged the universe to let it be just a dream. Her heart sank.

“You indicated that you’re confronting a memory.” Kevin paused. “You are safe. Jim is there. Who else is there?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“How many people are there besides you and Jim?”

He held up one finger.

“Is that person a man or a woman?”

Kevin and Elizabeth could both tell from his expression that he had tightly clamped his jaw shut. His mind was fighting hard against identifying the other person.

“Please use one finger to indicate if the person is a man. Use two fingers to indicate if the person is a woman.”

Elizabeth waited, her mind racing with possibilities while she questioned which was worse. She would have been disgusted either way, but she was shocked when he held up two fingers.

“It’s a woman?” Kevin waited for him to nod confirmation. “Do you know her name?”

Both of Franco’s hands clenched into tight fists as he confronted his fears. He nodded.

“Can you tell me her name?”

He was silent and still, fighting to keep his secrets.

“Did she speak?”

He nodded.

“Do you remember what she said?” After he nodded again, Kevin prodded. “Can you tell me what she said? Remember, you are safe with people who want to help you.”

His body started to shake as if he were chilled. “What are you doing? How could you? You’re disgusting!” His words were delivered through chattering teeth.

Elizabeth was horrified. She couldn’t understand how Kevin had no reaction at all. She wanted to ask Kevin to stop the hypnosis.

“I don’t want to,” Franco whispered, his head lolling to the side.

“Bring him out,” Elizabeth whispered fiercely. “Bring him out now.”

“Who is she?” Kevin continued. “Who is the woman?” He realized that he might seem merciless to Elizabeth, but Franco was too close to a breakthrough at this point. “Tell me her name.”

His lips moved without sound.

“Tell me her name,” Kevin repeated.

“No,” Franco fought the memory and the hypnosis. He pulled himself out of the trance, shaking his head. He sat up. “It’s not true. It never happened.”

“Who was the woman?” Kevin pushed.

Franco swallowed. He felt Elizabeth’s hand on his back. Her touch calmed his racing thoughts.

“Babe, who is it?”

He closed his eyes. “Mom.”

Elizabeth looked to Kevin, trying to keep herself from reacting.

“She never touched me,” he added quickly. “But she saw him. She yelled at me. She said I was disgusting.”

“You are not disgusting,” Elizabeth used the sleeve of her shirt to wipe his eyes. Franco’s enduring love for Betsy despite every way she failed him remained a puzzle Elizabeth could not understand. She had written off her parents for much less.

“Was she yelling at you or Jim?” Kevin asked.

Franco turned his attention to Kevin. His expression changed subtly with his thoughts as he considered the possibility that Betsy was telling Jim that he was disgusting.

He blinked rapidly, seeing her face in his mind as she yelled. “She was looking at me.” He closed his eyes and remembered Betsy’s face. “She seemed scared.”

“Do you remember anything else?”

He shook his head. Then it came to his mind that Kevin had spoken to Betsy after she had been rescued when Jim Harvey was holding her prisoner. “Do you know anything about this?” he asked.

“Me?” Kevin seemed surprised by the question.

“You talked to Betsy a couple of years ago. Did she tell you what Jim Harvey did to me?”

“I can’t discuss anything that Betsy said to me,” Kevin reminded him.

Franco felt betrayed. “Did you know? Before me? Did you know where all that hypnosis and talk about Andy and Uncle Jim was headed before I did?”

Kevin did not answer.

“You weren’t surprised,” Franco recalled. His tone was accusatory. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Franco, I suspected that Jim Harvey had abused you sexually before you reached that conclusion. Even so, I cannot ethically lead you to that. If I suggested it or implied it, you would not have the peace of discovering the truth for yourself.”

“This is peace?”

“Imagine what it would be like to question if your memories were real or if I had planted them.”

“How did my mother find out?” Franco asked. “She never told me. I want to know what she told you.”

“I can’t tell you,” Kevin repeated.

“It’s MY life!” He raised his voice. Elizabeth rubbed his shoulder. She had also suspected that Jim Harvey was a pedophile before Franco remembered. Like Kevin, she knew it was not her place to make that suggestion.

Kevin was frustrated but remained calm. “Has Betsy always been truthful with you?”

Franco scowled. “You know she hasn’t.”

“Then why would I assume she was truthful with me and tell you something that could have just been another lie? No matter what she said, I counseled her knowing she lied to you and about you over and over.”

Franco exhaled, letting go of some of his tension. He shrugged. “Okay. She’s a fruitcake. She lies as easily as she breathes.”

“I don’t understand why she didn’t help you,” Elizabeth fumed. “Why would she send away Drew? Why would she let that man continue to be in your life?”

“Maybe she didn’t know,” Franco offered. “I was older in that dream or memory. Like maybe five or six. It wasn’t when I was a little kid.”

“If you were five or six you were a little kid,” Elizabeth corrected him. Her heart broke for his lost innocence.

“It’s not the same as three,” he said, his heart heavy.

Elizabeth kept her thoughts to herself. She glanced at her watch. They had been with Kevin far longer than an hour.

“I wish she would talk to me,” Franco lamented. He never got to speak with her about his childhood. Two years ago, she had checked herself out of the hospital without saying goodbye or telling him where she was going. “I don’t even know how to contact her.”

“Maybe Jordan Ashford could find her,” Elizabeth suggested. “She owes you a few thousand favors.”

“If Betsy will agree to come in for a session, I would be happy to help all three of you sort this out,” Kevin offered.

Franco shook his head. “Okay, Doc. I guess we’ll be back sometime after hell freezes over.” He stood, helped Elizabeth put on her coat. Put on his own coat, briefly shook Kevin’s hand, and left.

Anger burned in his gut. Betsy had betrayed him in so many ways. He doubted he would ever get the truth from her.

“Home?” Elizabeth asked.

“Do you think the cafeteria is open?” he responded.

Elizabeth took her husband’s hand. No matter what darkness was circling around in his thoughts, he tried to make her smile. “Probably so,” she answered.


	3. Round Three

Elizabeth did not particularly enjoy having Kevin spotlight her issues. In their weekly meeting for couples’ therapy, she had given Kevin her notes about Franco’s less frequent night terrors and Franco had given Kevin his descriptions. She didn't expect Kevin to pointedly ask, "Elizabeth, how are you coping?”

“Me?” she repeated. “I’m fine.” She was dressed in bright blue scrubs, having just finished a long shift involving multiple patients from a car accident.

“You’ve had a tough year,” Kevin reminded her. “Have you had an outlet to discuss what you went through?”

She motioned her hand toward her husband and back to herself, “We’ve talked about everything.”

“Drew-me was a jerk,” Franco interjected. When Elizabeth was ready to describe how “Drew” had been toward her, Franco was sorely disappointed that Drew was nothing like he expected Drew to be.

“He doesn’t remember, but he has apologized for things that he didn’t even consciously do.” Elizabeth said of Franco. “I don’t think there’s anything to be gained by making Franco feel guilty for what a human flash drive did.”

“Do you feel guilty?” Kevin asked Franco.

Franco sighed. “I don’t remember any of it. I’m sorry for how Drew-me acted. I really admired Drew and I’m surprised he was such an ass toward Elizabeth. I didn’t expect him to be so… cold.”

“Elizabeth, what was that like for you—seeing your husband, hearing your husband’s voice, but there was another personality completely in control?”

Elizabeth took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “As much as I wanted Franco to be there, under the surface, trying to get back to me… that man was not Franco. He didn’t speak like my husband, and he didn’t stand or move like my husband. I tried to kiss him, and he didn’t kiss like Franco.”

Franco watched her expressions as she described the other person. He saw glimpses of anger, frustration, annoyance, and sadness.

“He called me _ma’am_ ,” she added as if it were a curse word. “He could be polite, but he had little patience and no interest in hearing my side of the story. For the longest time, he didn’t care about me or the boys wanting Franco back. He had a ‘too bad’ sort of attitude. It took him a long time to accept that Franco’s life had value and that he couldn’t possess Franco’s body and steal his life.” She thought that summarized the situation with brevity. “Yeah, it was rough. I’m glad Franco is back.”

“You didn’t mention Kim,” Kevin pointed out. Kim’s actions had a significant impact on Franco when he couldn’t remember anything. Surely, Elizabeth had something to say about her.

“I would rather never hear or speak her name again,” Elizabeth responded curtly.

“Which is a strong indication that we should talk about her.”

Elizabeth’s eyes darkened. Franco told her Kevin could be very tenacious about things he thought were important, whether a patient wanted to confront the issue or not. Now she knew exactly what he meant.

“I was her friend,” Elizabeth started. “The one thing that Drew and I asked her to do was not encourage Franco’s delusions about being Drew. Not only did she encourage them, she reinforced them, she acted on them, and she took them on as her own delusions as well.” Elizabeth had been betrayed by many people in her life. Kim’s betrayal had been one of the most painful. “She took advantage of my brain-damaged husband both physically and emotionally. She literally wanted to steal him, leave New York, and live in a fantasy world.” She frowned. “And on top of it all, she played martyr as if she had been wronged by me fighting to get my husband back.”

“It sounds like you harbor some anger and resentment towards Kim.”

“Yeah,” Elizabeth agreed. “She felt entitled to my husband and my boys’ stepfather as if losing her son made it okay for her to blow up our lives too.”

“Drew’s death couldn’t have helped the situation.”

Elizabeth shook her head, scowling. “You know, I think some people like to whisper that behind my back. But Drew, the Drew we knew… he wasn’t interested in Kim. She knew that. He didn’t want to rekindle anything with her. He was a parent with her—nothing else. She might have tried to justify stealing Franco by believing that both Franco and the real Drew were gone, but she knew that wasn’t the case. She was packing her bags to take off with my husband before he even got to consult with Dr. Maddox.”

Franco sat quietly beside Elizabeth while she vented her feelings over Kim. He had heard most of this before, but it seemed like telling Kevin would be good for Elizabeth.

“Kim is one in a long line of people who have betrayed you,” Kevin stated. “You were her friend and she repaid your kindness with callous disregard for your entire family.”

“I’m used to it.” Elizabeth spat the words.

“Should you be?”

Elizabeth thought that was a stupid question. “If you get betrayed enough, you learn to expect it.”

“I’m going to say a few names. I just want you to give me your initial thoughts. A sentence. A few words. As much or as little as you want to say.”

Elizabeth nodded her head. As annoying as she found Kevin’s prodding at first, speaking her mind to a neutral party was cleansing.

“Jeff Webber.”

“Disappearing Dad.” That was all she had to say. She had very little contact with her parents in the last two decades.

“Lucky Spencer.”

“Pfft. Cheating, lying, manipulative, toxic deadbeat.” She paused. Once her initial anger was expressed, she felt compelled to speak about the better times. “Also, my first love. We had a special relationship. We were both immature and grew in separate directions. Ultimately, we only hurt one another.”

“Zander Smith.”

“Stupid mistake. But having Cameron made me get my act together. Well, it made me _try to_ get my act together. Cameron is the reason I became a nurse, so I could support him.”

“Jason Morgan.”

“If it weren’t for Jake, I would be content to never interact with that sanctimonious bastard ever again. He’s too selfish to put his kids ahead of his loyalty to the mob.” She sighed. “I can’t believe I ever thought I loved him.”

“Sam McCall.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “The less I interact with Sam, the better. I’m not jealous of her relationship with Jason. I just wish we weren’t tied to each other forever by both having his kids. She also has no self-awareness of her own faults. She and Jason leave destruction in their path.” Ultimately, Sam was the reason Shiloh had targeted Port Charles, kidnapped, Cameron, and altered Franco’s brain. But Sam would never acknowledge that her actions hurt other people.

“Nikolas Cassadine.”

Elizabeth took a moment to think about that one. “That’s complicated. We’ve had our ups and downs, but we’re friends. We work it out when we have issues.”

“Ric Lansing.”

“Con artist. He loved me _too_ much. He was obsessive.” She pondered some of Ric’s schemes like holding Carly hostage and introducing Hayden as Jake Doe’s wife. “He actually frightens me. I don’t think he would necessarily hurt me, but he’s the type that would leave collateral damage.”

“Emily Quartermaine.”

Elizabeth sighed. “I miss Emily. And Sabrina,” she added.

“Helena Cassadine.”

“A bag full of crazy. Keeping Jake all those years was pure evil. We’re all blessed that she has moved on from this mortal realm.”

Franco snickered. He had used the same phrase to describe his birth mother, Heather Webber.

“Luke Spencer.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “He’s a loser, honestly. And he’s a big part of the reason that Lucky is the way he is. Selfish. Makes poor decisions. Hurts people.”

“Laura Webber.”

She smiled. “Laura is the most mom-like person in my life. She’s good to me and the boys and treats them all equally.”

“Sarah Webber.”

Her smile faded. “You mean _the good sister_?” Her tone was sarcastic. “I guess she’s all right. I haven’t seen in her years. We live separate lives and that’s okay.”

“Hayden Barnes.”

“Wow—the surprise sister. We have a good relationship now. I don’t understand why she’s gone off the grid since Valentin is no longer a threat. I’m worried about her.”

“Maxie Jones.”

She shrugged. “Water under the bridge. We both did some stupid things back then.”

“Ava Jerome.”

“Ava?” Elizabeth seemed surprised by the mention of her name. “I don’t have any issues with Ava. Whatever is going on between her and Nik is their business. I’m not sure one or the other has the upper hand there. She was loyal to Franco when Ryan tried to frame him. I appreciate that about her.”

Kevin paused. “How are you feeling, Elizabeth?”

“Like I just played a very personal game of word association.”

“You did,” he told her. “Is there anything else you want to say about anyone we mentioned?”

She shook her head. When she looked back at all those people who had been major players in her life, she was relieved that she was where she was now. There were many different directions her life could have taken. She was certain none of them would have led her the happiness and security she had now.

“Did we leave anyone out?” Kevin asked.

“I should say so,” Elizabeth answered.

Kevin tilted his head slightly. “Oh? Who did I leave out?”

Elizabeth smiled, “Franco Baldwin.”

Kevin nodded. “What do you need to say about Franco Baldwin?”

Her countenance brightened. “He makes me happy.”

“That’s all?” Kevin asked. He noticed the slight blush coloring Elizabeth’s cheeks.

“And a little crazy,” she added.

Franco remained quiet while she touched his cheek and looked into his soulful eyes.

“You really are the best thing that has ever happened to me. You’re kind, generous, funny, smart, never boring, and so complicated. But I love you just like you are and wouldn’t trade who you are for anyone else in the world.”

He smiled. “I love you too.” Sometimes he felt he didn’t measure up to the other people who had passed through Elizabeth’s life. He wasn’t her first love. He wasn’t her oldest friend. He wasn’t as confident as men like Ric or Jason. Yet he never doubted that no one could love Elizabeth Webber Baldwin as completely as he did.

“I know you do. I never doubted it. That’s why I never gave up on you.” She kissed his hand. “I want you to promise me something.”

“Anything.”

“Never, ever give up on me either.”

“I can’t even imagine giving up on you or what we have together. You’d have to like replace brain with a flash drive to make me do something _that_ stupid.”

Elizabeth groaned and popped him on his shoulder. “Your jokes are funny only because they’re bad, you know.”

“I know.”

“I love you, you… you… perfect-for-me man.”

“How do you feel?” Franco asked her.

“About what?”

“Well, you usually listen to me talk about my problems and issues. How do you feel about talking about your relationships?”

“It’s nothing you didn’t already know,” she told him with a shrug.

“But you said it to Kevin.”

“Yeah, that’s different,” she agreed. She thought about the question and took a deep, cleansing breath. “I feel lighter,” she answered. “I think I actually needed that—looking at my life in one jam-packed hour.” She nodded. “I see how far I’ve come. I’ve made a lot of mistakes, but I’ve gotten some things right too. It doesn’t matter who has come in or out of my life, my boys are safe and happy. Now that I’m with you, I know that I am safe, secure, and happy. I think I’m in a pretty good place.”

“That’s amazing,” Franco told her. “You’re amazing. Completely amazing.”

Elizabeth looked to Kevin. “Maybe that was good for me after all,” she admitted.

“Just trying to help you two be stronger together.”

“You know,” Elizabeth said. “ _We’re_ not the problem. It’s when the outside world gets in.”

“That’s inevitable,” Kevin told them. “Nonetheless, you have a solid foundation of communication. I think you’ll only grow stronger as long as you keep communicating with each other.”

“That’s what we want,” Franco said. “No matter how complicated things get, we don’t plan on giving up on each other.”

“Maybe we’ll hear word from Curtis soon if he’s found Betsy,” Kevin added. Their time for the day was coming to an end.

Identifying that Betsy had witnessed the abuse Jim Harvey was capable of had been a breakthrough moment that brought Franco some sense of peace, even though it left him with many more questions. Kevin hoped that Betsy would comply with answering the questions. Her son deserved the truth.

“Franco,” Elizabeth had something important to say to him before they left the confidential sanctuary of Kevin’s office. “I know you want Betsy to help you and I hope she will. But, if she doesn’t, promise me that you’ll turn to me with whatever is happening. Never suffer alone.” She put her hand over his heart. “You’re not alone and you never will be again. You don’t have to keep things to yourself and you don’t have to fight demons alone. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out, okay?”

He nodded. Her words left him too emotionally charged to answer verbally. He wrapped her in an embrace.

His breath tickled her ear. Elizabeth sensed how grateful he was to her, just for loving him. He might never know that she was just as blessed by having his love as he believed he was for having hers.


	4. Round Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a viewer, I felt that we were robbed by never having Betsy actually speak to Franco about his past. We only had his daydream of what he might say to her. Somewhere in an alternate universe....

Franco paced the length of Kevin’s office while his wife and therapist watched him. He glanced at his watch far too often. They were late. Curtis Ashford agreed to track down Betsy Frank and assured Franco that he found her and that she agreed to meet him at the hospital.

“Why wouldn’t she just come to see me?” he asked Kevin. He stopped pacing and leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. Betsy had avoided him for two years.

“I shouldn’t speculate...” Kevin said.

“Sure, you should,” Franco countered. “You’re a psychiatrist. It’s what you do.”

“Maybe she wants a buffer in case you’re angry,” Elizabeth offered, hoping to help Franco calm down before Betsy arrived. If he was agitated when she first saw him after so much time had passed, Betsy might refuse to answer any questions. She walked to him, took his hand, and said, “Come sit down with me. You need to be calm when she gets here. You know better than anyone how timid she is.”

Franco took a deep breath. “You’re right. If she sees me all worked up, she’ll get nervous and make up more lies.” He followed Elizabeth to the couch.

Elizabeth lightly massaged the back of his neck with one hand. “You are way too tense.” The massage wasn’t what would ease his anxiety—it was her touch.

“I know,” he leaned into her. “What should I say to her?”

“ _Hello_ is probably a good place to start,” Elizabeth suggested. “Don’t be accusatory. Plead to her motherly instincts. Tell her you need help.” It was the same advice Elizabeth had given him almost daily for the past two weeks.

Elizabeth’s advice reminded Franco of something Liesl Obrecht told him before he ever learned the truth about Drew. She said if her son needed help, she would want him to ask for it. In his opinion, Elizabeth and Liesl were both protective mothers with good instincts. He knew either one would help a child who asked. He had spent most of his life protecting Betsy’s feelings though. He was a wreck when he considered meeting with her. His peace of mind was dependent on getting to the truth. Betsy might breakdown if he asked her to fill in the blanks though. She might shut down altogether. She had before. 

While Franco and Elizabeth conversed a about Betsy, Kevin studied through Elizabeth’s notes about Franco’s sleeping patterns and Franco’s notes about his dreams. The night terrors were less frequent and less intense. The protocol was helping, but he believed that getting answers from Betsy could give his client some much needed clarity.

They were all startled by a knock on the door, even though they were supposed to be expecting it. Kevin met Curtis and Betsy at the doorway. He thanked Curtis for bringing Betsy and assured him that he would make sure she had a way back to her hotel room. He invited Betsy to come into his office.

“Ms. Frank,” he said. “I’m not sure if you remember me. I’m Dr. Kevin Collins. I treated you a couple of years ago.”

“I remember,” she said. Her hair was still long, mostly gray with streaks of dark brown. When she removed her coat, she revealed her floral print, frumpy, unflattering dress. She looked past Kevin and saw her son waiting for her. “Bobby.” Her voice cracked as she said his name. She approached him. “Oh, Bobby, I’ve missed you so much.”

Franco stood and embraced the woman who illegally adopted him and raised him. He felt anxiety melt away as he hugged her tightly and she returned his affection. She was older, but her appearance had changed little since he was a child. She always had long hair and usually wore less-than-fashionable clothing.

“I missed you too, Mom. Why did you leave without saying goodbye?” He held her hand and led her to sit next to him on the couch. He reintroduced her to Elizabeth. “My wife, mom. We got married.”

“I know,” Betsy reached out and stroked his face. To her, he would always be the most handsome boy in the world. “I’m so happy for you, Bobby. And you too, Elizabeth. You’re such a sweet girl.”

“It’s nice to see you again, Ms. Frank.” Elizabeth was polite despite her belief that much of Franco’s anxiety, paranoia, and insecurities were due to her inability to protect him when he was a child.

“Call me Betsy, please.” She took Elizabeth’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Look at you. Such a beautiful, sweet, gentle soul.” Betsy had no idea the rage that Elizabeth could have unleashed upon her for failing to protect her son.

Betsy seemed to be in a better place emotionally than she had been two years ago. “Why did you want to meet me here?” she asked.

Franco took a deep breath and carefully phrased his response. “Mom, I need your help.”

“What kind of help?” she asked. Her brow furrowed with worry.

“I don’t want to upset you. I really don’t.” His words were sincere. “But I really need some answers about Jim Harvey.”

Betsy appeared stricken at the mention of the man’s name. “Oh, Bobby, don’t you think you should just let it go?” She looked down. “It was such a long time ago.”

“I can’t let it go,” he told her. “I still have nightmares about what he did to me.” He held onto her hand, so she couldn’t ignore him. “I’m so confused because I don’t know the real story.”

“You know more than you need to,” There was a faint tone of anger in her voice. Franco wasn’t sure if the anger was directed at him for remembering or Jim Harvey for being a pedophile. “I hoped you would never remember any of it.”

“I know, Mom.” Franco chose his words carefully, gauging each phrase to be as unaccusatory as possible. “But… what he did… it’s affected me for so many years. I missed Andy my whole life. I knew I had a brother, but he was gone. I didn’t understand why. Even though you told me he was imaginary, part of me always knew he was real. I recognized Jason Morgan as Andy. I knew in my heart I had a brother. With the tumor and my… psychosis… I did horrible things and targeted Jason because I resented him.” He paused. No matter how much he wanted to, he knew he would never really be able to shut the door on his violent past behavior. He lived with the guilt even though he was not medically or legally culpable. “It’s not just that, Mom. I always felt like there was something inherently wrong with me. Jim Harvey made me believe I was evil. He made me believe no one could love me.”

“But you’re none of those things, Bobby. You’re not evil. And you’re so worthy of love and protection. That’s all I wanted, Bobby. I just wanted to protect you from the truth. You were so young. I thought you would forget it and be able to live a normal life without all the pain.” She sighed and made herself more comfortable. “I read articles in the library. At the time, some medical journals said that young children usually had very few concrete memories. Even though it said three and younger, I thought—I hoped that you could forget too.”

“But I didn’t,” he reminded her in a soft tone. He decided he would not confront Betsy with what she said in his memories unless he had to. “Mom, how did you find out what he was doing to me? When?”

Betsy looked away. “I have dreaded the day you would ask me that.”

He took her hand. “But I am asking, Mom. Can you please tell me the truth?”

“It would truly be better for you not to know,” Her voice was firm. Her mind drifted into her own past, the darkest moments of her life.

Franco looked to Elizabeth, wondering if Betsy was going to refuse to talk to him.

Kevin spoke up. “Bobby is remembering things that touch on you knowing about the abuse. If you clarify things now, Bobby will not have to fight through so many traumatic memories to find the truth.” He had been quiet but paying close attention to the conversation and the dynamics between mother and son. "You will spare him more and prolonged pain if you're honest about his past."

Betsy shook her head. Bobby would only be hurt by the truth, but she could not force him to keep struggling to find it. He had struggled with this pain far more than anyone ever should have. She retold the events as she remembered them.

“I was working a night shift and had to leave early. I don’t even remember why now. I got home several hours before I normally would have. I went to look in on you like I always did. I expected you to be asleep. I heard you…” she paused, looking up to fight back tears. “You were crying. I heard you say, _You’re hurting me._ I had no idea… I opened the door. You were begging him to stop.”

Betsy’s complexion was pale. She was horrified by her memories. “Jim… I was stunned. I couldn’t even believe what I saw. You were just a little boy.” Tears filled her eyes. “I screamed at him to stop. I told him he was horrible and disgusting. I told him to get out. I tried to pull him away from you, to get in between to the two of you to make him stop.” She paused, quietly lost in her own memories. “I wish that had been the end of it.”

“But it wasn’t?” Franco asked.

“He hit me so hard I fell to the floor. He kicked me in my stomach. He stood over me, reminding me that he knew my secrets and that you weren’t legally mine. He said he could make sure I would lose you forever. All he had to do was make a few phone calls.”

“I’m sorry, Mom,” Franco’s voice cracked. He had no memories of Jim attacking her. Even as she described it, his mind couldn’t conjure any images or sounds.

“Oh, honey, you don’t need to apologize.” She caressed his cheek again. “You sweet, brave boy. You tried to fight him, and you told him to not to hurt me. He asked if you were going to push me down the stairs too.” Betsy covered her face with her hands, sobbing. “It wasn’t until then that I realized _why_ you pushed Andy down the stairs. I believed Jim for years when he said you did it because you were born with problems.” She took a handkerchief that Kevin offered her, and she wiped her eyes. “I was so… wrong. You had behavior problems before you ever pushed Andy. Jim always told me that you needed a firm hand and you had to be punished so that you didn’t grow up to be a delinquent. I look back and remember all the times I let him take you to your room to punish you. I had no idea.”

Franco felt as if he were being choked by the pain that he had never been able to express. He swallowed, trying to clear his throat so he could breathe. He remembered that long walk to his bedroom, facing Uncle Jim's punishments. 

“I was too stupid to connect the dots that Jim was the reason you were acting out. You were never any trouble before I let that man into our home. He said you were jealous because I divided my attention between you and Andy already and now he was there too. You were asking me for help, and I didn’t see it. Oh, Bobby… if I had just known. I would have taken you and Andy and ran.”

Franco let out a strangled cry, remembering how he acted out—throwing things, breaking the angel figurines his mother collected, refusing to speak when asked a question, drawing on the wall with his crayons. “I didn’t know how to tell you,” he admitted. “He said he would hurt you and Andy if I didn’t keep our secret.” He crinkled his brow in disgust, “Our special secret.”

“What happened after that?” Elizabeth asked. Her heart ached for both Franco and his mother. She had judged Betsy so harshly. But she wondered if she could have also been fooled by someone who was as manipulative and evil as Jim Harvey. The man had an excuse for everything. He had been attractive, charming, and wealthy. Betsy was an easy mark because she didn’t see evil in other people so clearly.

“Jim beat both of us badly. He… baby, he hurt you and made me watch just to show me what he was capable of. He threatened to snap your neck and kill you instantly if I fought back. I begged him to stop. I begged him to use me instead.”

“Oh, my god, Mom…” Franco felt like his chest was going to explode. “I don’t remember that. Why don’t I remember any of that? I’m so sorry.” He bit his lip, struggling with whether he should share what he did remember.

“Bobby,” Betsy held onto his hands. “It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have stopped him. You couldn’t protect yourself. You couldn’t protect me. Jim was enraged that you made it possible for Andy to escape. I threatened to take you away from him too. He was so violent after that. I was afraid for our lives.”

Franco felt sick. He spoke slowly, weighing each word. “He made me be quiet when you were home. If you were gone…” he didn’t finish. He was lost in the memories.

“I was too ignorant to see what was happening in our own home,” Betsy told him. Before he could interrupt, she added, “I’m not saying that so that you’ll give me an excuse. I don’t deserve an excuse.”

“You found out… but you said it wasn’t the end. Why?”

“Jim was a very powerful, very wealthy man. He kept both of us in line by threatening the other. I begged him to stop hurting you. I told him I would do anything he wanted. He laughed at me. He said my boys were the only reason he had ever been with a stupid cow like me. He said if I tried to take you away, he would kill me, and no one would ever be able to save you. He said they would find your dismembered body in the woods somewhere when he was done with you.” She inhaled sharply. “I started saving money. I stole from him, just a little at a time—not enough that he would notice. I put in extra work at a nursing home without telling him. I worked as hard as I could to make enough money as fast I could to get us away from him. When I saved up enough, I waited until he had to go on a business trip so we could get a few days head start before he knew we were gone. I packed a couple of bags for us, and we took a bus to Philadelphia. We moved every few months—every time I had enough money saved to take off again. I used fake names for myself. I always called you Bobby, but I kept you away from other people. I knew how to fake my identities because Heather taught me when I got you. You know, it was much easier back then to become someone else. It became harder to keep moving as you got older because I couldn’t keep you out of school. Records were kept differently then, but I knew that eventually we would have to settle in one place. I tried to teach you as much as I could while we were on the run. You were always very bright. You learned things quickly.”

“I kind of remember that,” Franco told her. “I remember you showing me how to add and I remember it was late at night.” He made eye contact with her. “I felt safer then because it was just you and me.”

“If you kept Bobby out of school, who took care of him during the day?” Kevin asked.

“He took care of himself,” Betsy answered. “I know that’s a horrible thing to admit, that I let him stay locked in an apartment without any other human contact while I was working. It was the only way I knew of to protect him. He was very bright, you know. And obedient. He knew how to make himself a sandwich or cereal and he knew he could never, ever turn on the stove or oven.” She sighed. “I wasn’t a good mother. I know that. I just didn’t want Jim to find us.”

Franco nodded as he listened. He had vague memories of spending his days entertaining himself while his mom was working, but most of his childhood was a completely blank space. “You’re not a bad mother,” he told Betsy. “You did the best you could. You got me away from him.”

“My best was not very good. I contacted Heather eventually and told her what had happened to you and why I was running. She was furious that I let that man hurt you and that I had given away Andy. But she helped me get enough money so that we could settle into one place. Heather used her resources and found out that Jim sold the house and moved on to another relationship. We wound up in Brooklyn because it’s very easy to hide in plain sight in a city like that. I just wanted things to be normal for you. At least as normal as they could be.”

Franco’s eyes stung with unshed tears. “Thank you, Mom. For working so hard to save me.” He wrapped his arms around her gently.

“Baby,” Betsy openly cried. “You… you were special. You are special. You went through so much pain and trauma because of my stupidity. But you loved Andy and me so much.” She pulled back from his hug and placed her hands gently on either side of his face. “Bobby, you saved Andy and you protected me the only way you could.”

Franco embraced his mother again. “I’m so sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” Kevin interrupted.

Franco had all but forgotten that Kevin was even in the room. He shook his head, frustrated with the choices he made. “If I had just told Mom the truth…”

“Stop it,” Elizabeth interjected, not giving Kevin the opportunity. “You were learning to communicate when he started molesting you. You can’t punish or berate yourself over how you tried to tell someone that you were being hurt when you were three years old. You didn’t have the words to tell anyone. Even if you had the words, you were so ashamed and afraid… it was more than any child could handle.”

“She’s right,” Kevin added. “You weren’t able to express what was happening with words. He threatened you if you spoke about it. You tried to tell someone that you were hurting within the framework of rules that Jim Harvey made.”

Kevin was still compiling information about Franco’s past in contrast to Ryan's past for his research article. The revelation of the time he spent being moved from place to place and kept away from social connections added significant weight to how an otherwise gentle, intelligent child had morphed into a killer adult when his mental functioning was compromised by the brain tumor. Jim Harvey’s brutality had stayed with Bobby and influenced Franco’s actions. His background and his illness were the perfect storm of factors to create a killer. At the same time, his transformation post-surgery showed that the tumor was, indeed, the precipitating trigger of his own violent behavior. His case study would be significant to both medical and legal research.

“So, that’s it?” Franco asked. “That’s the rest of the story?”

“Am I keeping anything else from you?” Betsy rephrased his question. “No. I knew when I came here that the only way to be part of your life was to tell you the truth, even though I did not want you to ever know.”

“When did we leave?” Franco asked. “How old was I?”

“Seven,” Betsy whispered.

His body stung like he was being hit with a thousand volts of electricity. “F-four years?” he asked. “Four years?”

“Franco, what is it?” Kevin could easily see how upset his patient was by this revelation.

“I…” He shook his head and looked away.

“Don’t shut down on me, Franco. What is it?”

“He… had me for four years.” Every nerve in his body felt like it was burning him alive.

Elizabeth reached for him, touching his arm.

“I can’t,” he stood and walked away, coming to a stop at Kevin’s bookshelf. “I can’t think about this right now.”

Kevin understood better than anyone else in the room what Franco was facing. He approached him. “The magnitude of the abuse is overwhelming you,” he posited.

Franco nodded wordlessly.

“At age seven, more than half your life had been spent being repetitively violated by that man.”

He nodded again.

Betsy began to approach her son, but Elizabeth took her hand to stop her. She shook her head. “Let Kevin talk to him,” she whispered softly.

“You feel…” Kevin left the statement open for Franco to finish.

Words came to his mind and he rejected them. Nothing seemed to quite fit how he felt.

“Take your time,” Kevin encouraged him. “You feel…”

“Dehumanized,” Franco answered eventually.

Kevin nodded. “Tell me more.”

“I don’t understand… how could a man do that to a child? To anyone? To a dog?” Memories flashed through his mind. “I was a thing to him. An object.” He cringed. “I became that… unable to see a person as a… person.”

“You were sick,” Kevin reminded him. “You are a different person now. Your ability to feel empathy, compassion, love, guilt, sorrow… that’s sanity. That’s who you are now.”

“I’m so sorry for what I became.”

“I know you are. Everyone knows you are. That’s what makes you different. That’s what tells everyone who has the intelligence to understand that you were physically sick. When you healed physically and as you have healed emotionally, the person you really are has emerged.”

Kevin saw in Franco’s eyes how distressed he was. “You’re not like Ryan.” He was certainly blurring a professional boundary, but Kevin had a perspective that no one else could offer. “Ryan never had empathy. Never. He never felt sorrow. He never cared that hurt other people. I doubt he even understands that other people have feelings. He has never felt guilt or remorse for what he’s done. He’s never been distressed by his actions or how they affected other people. You’re not like him.”

Franco nodded. He couldn’t speak, but he was grateful to Kevin because he needed that assurance.

Elizabeth approached him without any trepidation. “I love you,” she told him. She took both his hands in her own. “I love you for who you are. I believe in you. I will always trust you.” She leaned her head against his shoulder, wrapping her arms around him, and rubbing his back. "I love you," she repeated.

He hugged her with a strangled sob.

“You need to rest,” Kevin told him. “All of you do. Elizabeth, I trust you and Franco can make it home safely?” he asked, and she nodded. He turned to Betsy who was on the couch, clearly upset seeing how much pain her child was facing. “Betsy, I would be glad to drive you to the Metro Court. Your son reserved a room for you to stay in town as long as you like.”

Elizabeth handed Franco his coat and he pulled it on before helping her put hers on. He looked at Elizabeth, imploring her to keep loving him and to believing in him. She smiled, reading his thoughts. Of course, she would always love him.

“Mom,” Franco reached out for Betsy. “Please don’t leave town. I want to see you again. I want you to meet my family.” He glanced at Elizabeth, hoping it was okay. She nodded. They could explain to the boys that Betsy was… different. It would be good for them to meet her. It would be even better for her to meet them. She needed to see that her Bobby had the kind of family she always hoped for.


	5. Chapter 5

Elizabeth’s internal clock woke her. In the first hazy moments while she tried to slip back into her dreams, she realized the room was brighter than she expected. It was morning. She reached for her phone to check the time: 5:58. She had become accustomed to being woken up around 2:00 each morning because her husband was fighting invisible demons.

She turned to her side and saw that he was sound asleep. The bed linens were barely ruffled, in contrast to the disheveled mess they usually had each morning from his thrashing about during his night terrors. She checked her phone again to make sure she hadn’t misread the time.

She snuggled closer to him and studied his face. She pushed his hair from his forehead and stroked his cheek, feeling stubble that he may or may not shave, depending on his mood for the day. She placed her hand on his chest and he instinctively covered her hand with his own. She rested her head on his shoulder listened to his breath. She trembled when she felt his hand slide up her back and find her messy hair. He twirled strands with his fingers.

“Hi,” Franco said.

“Hi,” she answered.

Neither felt more peaceful than when they were entwined with each other, away from the world.

“It’s morning,” Elizabeth told her husband.

“Already?” he asked, yawning. “Please tell me it’s Saturday and none of the boys play sports in January.” He kept one hand in her tangled hair. She always relaxed when he played with the soft brunette strands. 

“It’s your lucky day,” she said. “It’s snowing and all activities are canceled by Mom.”

He opened his eyes when she said “mom.” Everything Betsy told him the day before came rushing back. “You’re a good mom,” he told her. “The boys won the mom lottery.” He touched his finger to her lips. “Don’t deny your awesomeness.” Her eyes were beautiful, and they glistened from his compliment.

“Your judgment is skewed,” she laughed. Sometimes she found his praise overwhelming. She would never see herself the way he saw her. 

“Nope.” He looked from her eyes to her lips and she answered his gaze with a soft kiss.

“I love you so much,” Elizabeth told him.

“I love you so much,” he said. He pulled her closer, content to just be close to her.

They were both tired, having been through such an emotional revelation the night before. They enjoyed having no time constraints on staying in their warm bed. At that moment, it was the most comfortable place in the world.

It didn’t take long for them to hear the pounding sounds of boy feet on the stairs.

“Someone must be going to make his breakfast,” Franco commented.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “It’s a Pop Tarts kind of morning, don’t you think?”

“Oh,” he said, remembering. “I invited Mom to have dinner with us and meet the kids.”

Elizabeth sighed. “We should prepare them, shouldn’t we?”

“Is it okay?” he asked. “I asked her without asking you first.”

Elizabeth sat up, realizing the time for bliss was over. It was going to be a weird day. “Of course, it’s okay that you invited your mother for dinner. This is YOUR family, remember?”

“Well…” he sighed. “She’s a little weird.”

“Franco, your mom is kind. She’s not a danger to anyone. It’s not like you invited Heather to pop in for tea.”

“That’s next weekend,” he replied dryly.

She laughed. “Mmm… hmmm. And are you going to bust her out of jail to meet the grandkids?”

Franco thought about it a minute. “You know, your boys are Jeff Webber’s actual grandchildren. It might be really weird for my mother to show up and talk about her great love for your father and her favorite son, our mutual brother, their uncle-uncle Steven Lars.”

She patted his shoulder. “See why I’m not worried about them meeting Betsy?” She got out of bed. “I need to shower. How about you?”

“I definitely need to shower,” he replied. “Let’s conserve water.”

“Are we really conserving water when we stay in the shower for forty-five minutes?” she asked.

“Absolutely,” he answered, closing the door to the bathroom in case one of the boys decided to barge into the bedroom unannounced. “We have to do our part to save the planet.”


	6. Chapter 6

“What did we do wrong?” Cameron Webber asked his parents. He and his brothers Jake and Aiden had been summoned for a family meeting. Cam had to be called to get out of bed and join them four times before he made his way to the dining table.

“No one is in trouble,” Elizabeth told her sons. Cam was annoyed to be awake. Jake was still sleepy and struggling to pay attention. Aiden had been awake for a few hours keeping himself busy with cartoons and video games.

“We’re having a guest for dinner tonight,” Franco began.

“But I’m supposed to go to the movies with Tr—”

“Cancel any plans you have,” Elizabeth interrupted Cameron. “You can see the movie later.”

“They won’t want to see it again,” Cam grumbled.

“Maybe they will,” Franco offered. “Or maybe they’ll be really good friends and wait until you can see it too. Like _tomorrow_.”

“Who’s coming to dinner?” Jake asked, perking up when he found out why they were having the meeting. He took a bite of his untoasted Pop Tart. He liked them better that way.

“My mother,” Franco answered. “One of them. The less crazy one.”

Elizabeth shook her head, laughing to herself. Franco had never discussed Betsy or Heather with the children. As far as she knew, Jake and Aiden assumed he had grown up with Scotty and his mother was out of the picture. They had never met her parents and it was the normal they knew. They didn't question why Grandma and Grandpa Webber were absent from their lives. Cameron was better informed of Franco's past because he and Scotty had grown closer in the past few months and because he had done internet searches to find out information on the world-famous artist. 

“You have two mothers?” Aiden asked.

“You have two dads,” Elizabeth reminded him.

“But you never talk about your moms,” Aiden shrugged, addressing his stepfather. “Do they live far away like my other dad?”

“One isn’t able to travel.” He glanced at Elizabeth who was clearly amused by his description of Heather who was unable to travel from a maximum-security prison (unless she _really_ wanted to because she was Heather Webber, and nothing could stop her from finding a way to do whatever she wanted to do).

“Betsy—the one you’re going to meet tonight—has been away for a while. I’m not sure how long she’ll stay in town and I’d really like her to meet you guys while she’s here.”

“Oh, that’s cool then,” Cam was eager to meet Franco’s mother. It would be great to have another grandmother like Laura. “So, what makes her _the less crazy one_?”

“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about,” Franco said. “Betsy has a kind, gentle soul. She’s… _easily upset_ though.”

“Is she sad?” Jake asked.

Franco nodded. “Yeah, she’s sad a lot. She’s timid. Her social skills are possibly worse than mine.”

Elizabeth remembered that early in their friendship, Franco told her that he had had to protect Betsy's delusions. She had never imagined at the time what a significant part of his life Franco was sharing with her just to make her feel like she had not failed as a mother. “We’re just asking that you be extra kind and patient with her.”

“Like Joss’ step-grandfather, Mr. Corbin?” Cam asked. “Joss has to be super patient with him because he forgets things and gets confused.”

“It’s not the same situation with Betsy,” Elizabeth said, sympathetic to Mike’s situation. Dementia was hell on earth. “She is independent and understands what’s going on.”

“I don’t get it,” Aiden said. “What’s wrong with her?”

“She’s been through some bad things and sometimes it’s hard to get over that,” Franco told them. “She has an anxiety disorder. Do you all know what anxiety is?” He could have easily assumed they all knew, but he wanted to make sure.

“I do,” Jake answered. “I had anxiety when you were my therapist. It’s like worrying or being scared all the time.”

“Yes,” Franco nodded. “She is afraid of bad things happening, but also of people hurting her… or me. Once she meets you, she’ll probably be afraid someone might hurt you too. She’s going to love you all instantly. She has a really big heart.”

“Did someone hurt her?” Aiden asked.

Franco was stunned silent for a moment. Aiden was perceptive and empathetic. He nodded. “Yeah. She had some bad… people in her life. But, please don’t ask her about that.” He sighed and leaned back a bit. “Look, I don’t want you to act like she’s going to break. Just be yourselves on your very best and most gracious behavior, okay?”

They nodded. “We can do that,” Cam answered for the three of them.

“Thank you. You’re all good kids. We’ll have dinner around 6:00.”

Wooden chairs scraped against the floor as the three boys started to leave.

“Wait!” Franco stopped them. “This is important. She always calls me _Bobby_. Just go with it, okay?”

“Why does she call you Bobby?” Jake was curious. That bad man who held him and his mother at gunpoint also called Franco Bobby and he never understood why.

He shrugged. “She’s my mom and she never liked my stage name.”

“Stage name?” Aiden repeated, tilting his head to the side just a little.

“Yeah, you know… _Franco_. That’s how I sign my art. I’m still _Bobby_ to her.”

“Why did you change your name to Franco?” Aiden was curious.

He sighed. “Let’s blame the brain tumor I had, okay?” He wasn’t sure he even had the tumor at the time he changed his name. His mother hated it as much as he hated the name _Bobby_ and everything _Bobby_ represented to him. Still, he would rather deflect than try to explain to the boys that he had been denying his past by changing his name. Even with new understanding of himself, he hated the name _Bobby_ because he hated himself for so long. 

Aiden shrugged, willing to accept any answer. “Okay, can I make dessert?”

“Any day of the week,” Franco responded, smiling. He had hoped Aiden would volunteer to make something. It would give them time to hang out together in the kitchen. 

“This would be a great day for you make a dessert,” Elizabeth encouraged him.

“What does Grandma Betsy like?” Aiden asked.

Franco grinned and surprised Aiden by grabbing him with a very tight hug complete with tummy tickles. “I can tell you what she’s going to love—being called Grandma Betsy.” He let Aiden go. “Cook anything you want. I promise she’ll like it."


	7. Chapter 7

Franco was proud that the boys had decided on their own to wear their “Sunday best” to meet Betsy. He knew it wasn’t a decision made for Betsy, but for him. He suspected it was Cameron’s idea because the only reason Cameron would have done it was if he had thought of it himself. “You guys look great,” he told them.

Jake had a mountain of artwork to show Betsy. Aiden was very proud of the lemon torte he was going to serve with strawberries and whipped cream on the side.

“I don’t need props,” Cam told his family. “I’ll impress Grandma Betsy with my good looks, charm, and intelligence.” He didn’t tell anyone he practiced the song he wrote for the wedding reception just in case she wanted to hear it.

Franco, with Aiden and Jake’s assistance, made Betsy’s favorite meal that he remembered from when he was a kid: baked chicken with barbeque-baked beans, potato salad, and yeast rolls.

Elizabeth spent much of the day tidying up the house, even though her husband told her it was unnecessary to go to so much trouble. She was not going to welcome her mother-in-law into her home for the first time while there were stinky shoes and snowy smudges on the floor.

“Your mom is getting the royal treatment,” Cam commented, plopping onto the couch. He threw a decorative pillow from one side to the other.

“I just straightened that,” Elizabeth reminded him. She tossed the pillow to him. “Put it back.”

“It’s uncomfortable.”

“I don’t care.”

He frowned. “Franco said she’s going to love us no matter what. Why are you cleaning everything?”

“First of all, because it _needs to be cleaned_ ,” Elizabeth answered, echoing the frustration of moms the world over. “Besides, Betsy was a nurse. I would hate for her to think we live in disease infested squalor.”

Franco wrapped his arm around his wife from behind and kissed her ear. His hand rested on her abdomen. “ _Disease infested squalor?”_ he repeated with a chuckle. That was quite an exaggerated description of what he thought was a pretty typical American home with kids. “Once upon a time, Betsy had two toddlers. I’m sure Andy and I did a lot more damage than this.”

He remembered his mother always kept a tidy home, but she allowed the boys to play when it was just him and Andy. He didn’t really remember playing with toys much after Andy disappeared.

“I didn’t know your mom was a nurse too,” Jake said. “What kind of nurse?”

“Maternity,” Franco answered. He left out the fact that she came to have two illegally gained babies by working as a privately as a midwife.

“Isn’t _Betsy_ a nickname for Elizabeth?” Cam asked, his mind whirring. “So… your mom was a _nurse_ named _Elizabeth_?”

“Thank you for putting that image in my head, Dr. Freud,” Franco frowned. He’d never connected the two women in that way before.

“I’m sure it’s a coincidence,” Cam laughed so hard that he started to choke on his soda.

“Ha. That’s my voodoo curse resting upon you!” Franco declared as Cam tried to catch his breath.

“Do not spill that on the couch!” Elizabeth ordered sternly while Cam tried to wipe soda from his shirt. But her heart was smiling because her “boys” were joking around with each other. She made a pass through the kitchen to make sure everything was ready and that the table was set as she wanted it.

The doorbell rang a few minutes before 6:00. Franco opened the door with a couple of twenty-dollar bills to pay and tip Betsy’s Uber driver. He thanked the woman for bringing Betsy and she thanked him for the cash. “I might be available when it’s time to go back to the hotel,” she told him.

Franco nodded and took his mother’s hand to invite her inside. “Let me help you with your coat,” he offered.

Elizabeth was standing nearby, and she motioned for the boys to join her. Without planning, they lined up in order of age.

Franco took a breath before introducing Betsy. “You remember Elizabeth,” he said, not alluding that they had seen each other recently. “This is Cameron, Jake, and Aiden,” he added, pointing to each boy.

They boys said hello.

“Can we call you Grandma Betsy?” Jake asked.

“I would love that,” Betsy told them, overwhelmed. She always loved children and hoped she would have grandchildren one day. Her son had three sons now, reminding her of the time that she had two small boys of her own. She seemed like she might collapse into a heap of tears when Jake and Aiden volunteered hugs. “You have such a beautiful family, Bobby.”

Franco nodded. He agreed wholeheartedly. “They’re great kids.” He had his arm around Elizabeth while they watched the boys and Betsy interact. “And they have an amazing mother.”

“You’re a handsome young man,” Betsy said to Cameron. “You remind me of Bobby when he was a teenager. I bet you have all the girls lining up for a Valentine’s Day dance.”

“Not really,” Cam answered, feeling sheepish. He couldn’t seem to connect in that way with the one he thought was the right girl. “But I would love to hear more about _Bobby_ when he was my age.” He grinned at his stepfather.

Betsy looked back at Franco for a moment. “Well, Bobby rarely left his room or took a break from his canvas or sketchpad.” It was hardly the kind of revelation that Cam was looking for, something he could use to get under his stepfather’s skin occasionally.

“What about homework?” Cam asked. “Didn’t he have to take time to do homework?”

Betsy seemed distracted a moment. “Hmm. I suspect he only did what he had to in order to pass. He wasn’t one to bring home textbooks.”

“I should try not bringing home books,” Cam smiled, thinking he could get away with something.

“Only if you’re smart enough to pass your classes without studying,” Elizabeth told him. Her tone was sharp, almost challenging him to try it and ruin his GPA with college looming in the not-to-distant future.

“I have drawings,” Jake said, excitedly. “I’m an artist too. Do you want to see?”

Elizabeth intersected Betsy and escorted her to the table. “Let’s look at your drawings after we eat,” she told her middle child.

“No one likes a dry chicken,” Franco agreed with Elizabeth’s direction as he pulled a large baking dish from the oven. He set it on the table. “Mom, Aiden made dessert and you’re going to love it.”

Elizabeth placed the potato salad on the table while Franco got the baked beans. The boys all sat down, waiting for their parents.

“The chicken smells delicious, Bobby,” Betsy said.

“It’s weird that you call Franco _Bobby_ ,” Jake observed. “There was this really bad man who called him _Bobby_. Maybe he knew you. His name was Mr. Harvey.”

A second after Jake said _Harvey_ , Franco dropped the glass dish with the beans on the floor. The dish bounced without breaking before coming to a stop upside down. “Dammit,” he yelled, as beans with vibrant tomato-based sauce spilled across the floor and splattered onto the lower cabinets and walls.

Cam noticed the connection to the man’s name and Franco’s reaction. He glanced at his mother who looked as if she had seen a ghost. Jake looked frightened and Elizabeth had her hand on his shoulder hoping to gently remind him that everything was okay now.

Cam jumped up immediately to help Franco who was trying to clean the mess. He got a dustpan and broom, not quite sure the best way to go about cleaning two pounds of beans from the floor.

“I’m so sorry, Bobby,” Betsy said mournfully during the commotion.

“Did I say something wrong?” Jake asked. He could easily see that both Franco and Betsy were unsettled. “I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s fine,” Elizabeth told him, rubbing his shoulders. The last thing she was going to do was make the situation worse by overtly reacting like the dropped dish was anything more than an accident.

“No, Jake, you didn’t say anything wrong,” Franco also replied to him. His heart was racing. Here he had asked the boys not to upset Betsy and _he_ was the one spilling things and cursing. Jake never mentioned Jim Harvey and they had assumed the incident was well behind him.

“Jim Harvey got near you?” Betsy asked Jake.

“He held a gun on me and my mom, but Franco tackled him so we could get away,” Jake explained. “I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to talk about him.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Franco told him, still working on the mess. “I must have tripped,” he lied.

Aiden watched the scene and came up with his own practical solution. He got up from the table and went to the freezer. “I can cook some green beans to replace the baked beans,” he offered, taking a steam-in-the-bag package from the freezer. It was not the first time something had been dropped between the oven and the table and a second-string vegetable was sent into the game. They were used to a little bit of chaos in the Webber-Baldwin home.

“That’s great, Jake… I mean, _Aiden_.” Franco corrected himself, flustered. He had officially reached the milestone of parenting where he called one kid by another kid’s name.

“Bobby, he threatened your family?” Betsy asked. “I’m so sorry. Not a day goes by that I don’t regret letting that man into our lives.”

Cam watched Franco, who was on his knees scrubbing the floor with some sprayable cleaner and paper towels. His hands were shaking. Something about _Mr. Harvey_ had rattled both him and his mother and both were pretending it hadn’t.

In the meantime, the microwave was making a whirring sound while the green beans hissed as they cooked. Aiden stood by the microwave waiting. He was unaffected. He spilled things in the kitchen regularly and no one made a big deal over it.

“ _Mom_ ,” Franco interrupted her, afraid that she was going to start talking about their past. “Everything is _fine_.” He could practically see and hear Kevin telling him he was in denial, that everything was not fine.

The blended family was quiet then. Franco finished cleaning the floor with Cameron’s help and they washed their hands at the sink. Aiden and Elizabeth put the green beans into a serving dish, and she brought them to the table. Before she sat down, Elizabeth ran her hand across her husband’s back, just to remind him she was there with him. It was an ordinary gesture.

When everyone was seated and the meal was on the table, Franco said, “I’m sorry I dropped the baked beans.” He rubbed his neck. “Go ahead. Help yourselves,” he said. The boys were waiting which was unusual for them. No matter how many times they were reminded to show good manners, setting food in front of them was like tossing raw meat into a pond full of pariahs. “It’s okay… really. I’m clumsy tonight. It’s what happens when you aim for perfection. There’s a lesson there—strive for mediocrity.”

“Franco,” Elizabeth sighed. “I’m sure everything will be delicious.”

“They know I’m kidding,” he said of the boys.

“I’m just happy to be here,” Betsy added, trying to make everyone feel better.

The boys were silent, sensing how uncomfortable Franco was (though he tried to hide it) and that Elizabeth was also trying to hide that she was concerned about the strange turn the night had taken.

“Cam, how was your soccer game?” Franco asked.

“We didn’t play today.” Cam answered, confused. He hadn’t played soccer since November. Franco and his mother had attended the championship game.

“Your last one?” Franco asked. “How was it?”

“We lost,” Cam answered. He didn’t add anything to be snarky about the timing of the question or Franco’s general lack of knowledge about sports. He could tell it wouldn’t be funny.

“Mom, Cam is really athletic, and he plays and writes music too. Very talented. Jake is our artist. He wins every art competition at school. Aiden is the best cook in the house. He made a lemon torte just for you.”

“Franco said it was your favorite.” Aiden added.

“It’s not easy to make,” Betsy was impressed.

Aiden shrugged. “It’s not that hard. I have a lot of practice.” He took a bite of the potato salad.

“Jake has some drawings to show you after dinner.” Franco said, repeating information that Betsy already knew.

Betsy nodded. “I can’t wait.”

“Franco taught Jake about art,” Elizabeth added, hoping to make both Jake and Franco feel better about the debacle that followed Jake’s question to Betsy.

“I was in therapy,” Jake told Betsy. “Franco helped me a lot. And now I love to draw, just like he does. Franco is the best.”

“I’m so proud of him,” Franco said, making eye contact with Jake. “You know, my working with Jake is how Elizabeth and I started to become friends. Jake really made a difference in my life too.” He smiled at the boy.

“But I’m your favorite,” Cameron added nonchalantly, trying to help get the conversation back on track.

“You’re all my favorite.”

“I can’t believe you have a wife and three boys now,” Betsy gushed. “I had given up hope that you’d ever get married.”

“I waited for the right woman,” Franco spoke to his mother, but looked at his wife. “It wasn’t easy, but we got here, and this is the happiest I have ever been in my life.”

“Me too,” Elizabeth said. “It took me a while to get it right.”

“Franco is a great dad,” Cameron added. “He’s really stepped up for me like no one else ever has. I never knew my biological father. He died.”

“I’m sorry, honey. I’m glad Bobby has been there for you.”

“Me too,” Cameron told her. “He saved my life.”

“He saved my life too,” Jake added, as if it were a competition between them.

“He hasn’t had to save my life,” Aiden said. “But he made me feel like I’m okay just the way I am and that’s just about the same thing.” The more Aiden expressed himself, the more his family realized how deeply he felt things and how bright he was.

“That’s very important,” Betsy agreed. “I wish I had done that for him,” she added softly.

“Mom,” Franco’s tone told her not to go any further down that path.

Betsy ate so she wouldn’t say the wrong thing. Bobby must have kept his past from the children. She couldn’t blame him. She had tried to keep his past from him—no child should know about such things, much less live through them.

Elizabeth asked each of the boys some questions she had planned in case things with Betsy got awkward. Franco was grateful that Elizabeth was prepared to divert Betsy from speaking about his childhood.

After they had dessert, Elizabeth offered to rinse the dishes and put them in the dishwasher while Jake and Franco showed Betsy the budding artist’s work. Aiden stayed in the kitchen to help his mom. Cameron plopped down in a chair and played on his phone until Elizabeth walked by and snatched it from his hands. She had expressly told the boys not to get out their phones while Betsy was visiting.

“These are fantastic,” Betsy gushed. “You’re very talented, just like Bobby. I see you’re developing your own style as well.”

“You really think so?” Jake asked, his pride bolstered by her comment.

“Yes, I do.” Betsy told him. “I may not be an artist, but I’ve certainly gone to my share of exhibits and studied about all the artists that have influenced Bobby.”

“Franco’s work really speaks,” Jake said.

“Mostly in curse words,” Betsy joked, making everyone listening laugh.

“Not so much anymore,” Franco told her.

“I haven’t seen your recent work,” Betsy reminded him.

“I have some pictures on my phone,” Elizabeth told her. She unlocked her phone and pulled up her photo gallery dubbed “Franco’s Art.”

Betsy took the phone and scrolled through the photos slowly, studying each one with even more interest than she had shown Jake’s work. “My goodness, these are beautiful,” she said of the portraits of Elizabeth. “So different from his early work.”

“It’s the subject, not me.” Franco said, looking over her shoulder while she went through the photos. He took the phone and moved quickly through a few drawings of Elizabeth that were too racy for his mother or the kids to see. Fortunately, they were grouped together on the phone when Elizabeth had gone through some of his drawings to remind herself how he saw her.

“I’m sorry I missed your wedding and the reception,” Betsy said when she found the caricature he had drawn to use for the invitations.

“Yeah, me too,” Franco told her. “I didn’t know where you were.”

Betsy stopped, studying a darker piece he had made. “This is recent?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he answered.

She didn’t press for more information, but she was sad to see pain in his recent work. It was there in several more photos, including the last one in the gallery. He had been hurting recently and it was her fault.

“Those were cool. Really intense,” Jake said of the last few pictures. “I haven’t seen that stuff yet.”

“It’s probably at the hospital. I’ve been working on some stuff while my patients work. Sometimes it helps them relax if I’m throwing paint on a canvas too.” Sometimes he literally threw paint to express anger that he didn’t feel comfortable expressing in other ways. No matter how often Kevin told him anger was “natural,” he felt beholden to keep his anger to himself as much as possible.

“Would you like to see pictures from the reception?” Elizabeth asked. She brought up another gallery on her phone. “If you give me your number, I can send you all of these.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Betsy said. “Oh, you look so beautiful.” She looked at Franco, “And you’re so handsome.” She quickly moved through the pictures of the people she didn’t know. “Look at the boys singing.” She looked at Cam who was bored at this point. “Were you singing a song you wrote?”

“Yeah, we were,” he smiled. “I can go get my guitar and play it for you.”

“I would love that.”

“Hey, dweebs, go get your shaker and tambourine,” he told his brothers. “We’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Franco sighed with relief when the boys started singing. It had taken Betsy so long to look through Jake’s art, his art, and the photos that he took the song as the perfect time to call the Uber driver back. It was getting late and Betsy was tired. _Complete_ disaster had been adverted.


	8. Chapter 8

“I think we have to talk to Jake,” Franco told Elizabeth as she crawled into their bed beside him.

Elizabeth sighed with relief—she had been thinking the same thing while she finished her nightly beauty routine alone in the bathroom. Franco had been so frazzled by his mother than she planned to wait until morning to bring it up. “I didn’t realize he still had issues with Jim Harvey trying to kidnap us. He never talks about it.”

“Maybe he doesn’t know what to say?” Franco suggested. He had spent of lifetime of not knowing how to say he needed help.

Elizabeth cuddled with her husband, but their conversation focused on the kids. She felt blessed that he paid such close attention to the kids and their needs. Their biological fathers paled in comparison to the devotion he showed them. “Babe,” she started in a weary tone. “I think Cam picked up on… Jim Harvey hurting your mother.” She paused, knowing her next words would hurt: “And you.”

Franco nodded, trying to swallow the anxiety that made his throat feel tight. “Yeah. I sort of dropped the ball—or I should say the beans—on keeping myself in check.” He rolled his eyes wondering why Jim Harvey’s name had to intrude at the very moment he was carrying hot, potentially very messy food to the table. “I really tried, Elizabeth. I prepared myself to gloss over the subject if Betsy said something… but it was _Jake_. Realizing Jim Harvey’s attempt to kidnap you is something Jake still thinks about… I was blindsided—not that I blame Jake, of course. Like you, I thought he was okay after he talked to Kevin.”

“Neither of us saw that coming,” Elizabeth reminded him.

“Did I ever tell you that seeing Harvey with Jake… seeing him approach Jake is what opened the floodgates for the memories that I was still fighting? I could not let him put one filthy had on that child. I was enraged that he was even close to Jake.”

“You didn’t tell me exactly,” Elizabeth answered. “But I put it together. I saw the moment of realization in your eyes. You acted immediately. You were going to protect my boy at any cost to yourself—just like you did for Drew.”

“I wish it was as glamorous as you make it sound,” he tried to laugh, but it was more of a disgusted snort. Thoughts of _Uncle Jim_ still made him want to throw up.

“I don’t think Aiden was upset, at least,” Elizabeth reflected on the dinner. Aiden had been a little trooper, like always.

“But he noticed.”

“Yeah. I think he’s going to be the kid with the cool head on his shoulders.”

“He has an old soul,” Franco agreed. “He’s just more mature than most kids his age. I think being bullied ages a kid’s mind faster than their body can keep up because it ruins their innocence when they endure cruelty from the world.”

They were both silent for a moment, saddened that they ultimately could not shelter the kids forever.

“I think we need to have another family discussion,” Elizabeth broached the subject carefully. “I think we have to let them know who Jim Harvey was… and what he did to you.” With her hand resting on his chest, she felt her husband’s breath catch. “Vaguely, of course,” she added.

“I know,” he exhaled. “Believe me, I’ve played this conversation in my mind ten thousand times in the last two years. I don’t want the boys to know what happened with Uncle Jim, but I don’t want to lie to them. And I’ve never been sure what age is the right age…” he paused before letting Elizabeth into another part of his soul. “I don’t have a frame of reference. Kids are supposed to be innocent. I never was. So, when do you take that away to protect them?”

Elizabeth’s heart was heavy. She remembered being a child whose mother would comfort her when she had bad dreams. She remembered thinking she was _badass_ when she smoked or tried her first beer as a teenager.

But Elizabeth also remembered clearly when she realized she had only ever played at being anything but innocent. Tom Baker destroyed that girl, Lizzie, and all her romanticized notions of what life had to offer.

“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?” Franco whispered. Elizabeth’s entire body tensed when she remembered the attack and the loss of her innocence. She rarely spoke of it and rarely let it affect her, but something like that would never go away entirely.

Elizabeth answered by snuggling closer to her husband’s body, wishing she could just melt into this man who would protect her from the world if he could.

Franco wrapped his arm more tightly around her, holding her as close as he could. “You’re safe,” he told her. “But whatever you’re feeling… it’s okay to feel it. There’s no expiration date on pain. I wish there was. If you need anything from me…”

“Thank you,” Elizabeth whispered. “You don’t know how much you have done for me, to heal me in ways that I didn’t know I was still hurt.”

“You told me you recovered,” he said. “I don’t think I did much to help you with that.”

“You taught me to enjoy sex, like really enjoy sex, not just go through the motions. I’ve had pleasurable experiences… then you came along and blew my mind. I really didn’t know a woman could feel what you make me feel.”

“Um… you’re welcome?” Franco tried to make a joke. He took her words as a compliment but couldn’t fathom how any man could have made love to this magnificent woman and not done everything possible to ensure she was completely _satisfied_. “You’re pretty damn amazing yourself.”

Elizabeth smiled. This was what she had waited for, what most people probably never got. Their emotional connection strengthened the bonds of their physical connection. She never worried about being anything more than herself anymore.

“Sometimes it hits me again,” Elizabeth thought of the night Tom Baker raped her. “When we consider talking to the boys… I don’t know if they can imagine that we were young once. I hate to let them know that we’ve been through these things. Kids think parents are invincible. I was younger than Cam. You were younger than Aiden. You were younger than Violet.” She shivered at the cold truth.

“Maybe we shouldn’t talk to them,” Franco reconsidered. “Maybe we should wait until they ask.”

“No,” Elizabeth disagreed. “We need to be prepared, not surprised. And they have to know to protect themselves. And they have to know and understand how to respect a girl—or boy—when they move to that part of their lives. I don’t ever want them to be in a situation where consent is hazy for them or their partners.”

He nodded. The world had changed a lot. Awareness was everything. “Aiden is so young…”

Elizabeth had done what she felt was her due diligence as a parent. She spoke to each child about having autonomy over their own bodies and told them that no one had the right to hurt them. She had used the popular, easily understood “bathing suit” analogy in conjunction with the phrases “good touch” and “bad touch.” Basically, she read the pamphlets on parenting and did her best to tackle an awkward subject in an age-appropriate way. Each of her boys got the message but were visibly uncomfortable with it. It was those times when having a dad around could have been beneficial.

She frequently reminded each of her boys that she loved them and would do anything to protect them. She hoped they understood that they could come to her with their problems, but sometimes she wondered if she was succeeding. Like most parents, she questioned if she failed her children at times.

She didn’t know why Aiden was being bullied until Jake and Cameron told her. She only saw her sweet little boy. She couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to hurt him. Cameron had been acting out for a while—shoplifting, attempting to buy drugs, leaving town without permission, getting drunk. Jake was the most stable now, but he had been the most unstable before his therapy sessions. His art had let him work through his anger, fear, and insecurity.

Franco took a deep breath. “Maybe we need help,” he suggested.

Elizabeth propped herself on her elbow, surprised and intrigued by his statement. “Help?”

“Well, like I said… I don’t have a reference point for innocence, for being a kid without a cloud of anguish and anger surrounding me. You have the reference of innocence, but it’s complicated because you’re their mother and they would all do anything to protect you. They’re going to be devastated. What if we’re not equipped to handle that?”

“Who would you want to help us?”

“I know it sounds insane to think of bringing Pops, Kevin, or Laura into the same room for this… but my dad knows what it’s like to be the Dad. Laura is as close to mother as you’ve had in years. Kevin is a professional. Maybe Laura and my dad wouldn’t even consider it, but Kevin… he would help.”

“Then we have to wonder if five adults would overwhelm three kids.”

“Yeah. It would overwhelm me.”

“But they’re not just adults. They’re family too.” Elizabeth sighed. “Let’s sleep on it,” she suggested. “We can’t solve the world’s problems in one night.” She yawned, and laid back down, her hand over his heart. “I love you so much.”

“I love you so much,” he repeated. “We’ll figure out the right way and do our best. It’s all we can do.”


	9. Five on A Couch

“Whoa, what’s going on here?” Cameron asked, closing the door behind his brothers. Since he could drive, he often wound up with chauffeuring duty for his younger brothers. None of them were expecting to see so much family gathered at the same time.

Kevin and Laura Collins were there along with Scott Baldwin and Bobbie Spencer. The chairs from the dining room had been moved to the living room to make accommodations for everyone to have a place to sit.

“Are we having a dinner party?” Aiden asked, disappointed that he had not been around to make something special.

“This is not a party,” Franco answered. “Come here,” he reached out to Aiden and prompted him to sit between himself and his wife, Elizabeth. Elizabeth kissed Aiden’s forehead and gave him a hug.

“Oh, no! Did someone die?” Jake asked, aware of the rash of violence sweeping through Port Charles in this latest mob war.

“No, no one died, honey,” Elizabeth reached out to comfort her middle son’s fears and had him sit next to her.

“Why does everyone look so unhappy?” Cam asked, flopping himself down on a chair.

“After much consideration, Franco and I decided it was time to discuss some things with you boys, as a family.”

“Are you breaking up?” Cam asked his mother, sounding bitterly disappointed.

“Absolutely not!” Elizabeth and Franco answered in unison.

“This family only gets stronger,” Franco added. He looked to Elizabeth.

“We’re not unhappy, but we may look unhappy because we have to have a serious discussion. We need to speak to you about asking for help. And, in doing that, we asked for help, partly to show you that there’s no age limit on needing other people.” Elizabeth told the kids.

“There are some things you can’t handle on your own,” Franco added. “The people in this room have been a support system for your mother and me, separately and as a couple.”

“We want you to know if you ever need help and feel like you can’t talk to one of us, at least talk to someone you trust,” Elizabeth looked to each son, making sure they were paying attention. They all looked a bit overwhelmed by the unexpected discussion.

“Don’t ever suffer silently,” Franco added. “Over anything.”

“What are we asking for help with?” Jake asked, confused.

“Anything,” Elizabeth answered. “Some things are harder to talk about than others.” She looked to Bobbie, remembering all those years ago how she delayed asking her grandmother for help. Bobbie smiled at her. A lot of time had passed, but her memories of young Elizabeth were clear. Bobbie was proud to be included as part of the family, knowing that her actions had had such a lasting impact for Elizabeth.

“Like trigonometry?” Cam didn’t like family meetings and a bigger family meeting was even worse.

“For that, ask Kevin,” Franco answered, causing Kevin to chuckle. He reached for Elizabeth’s hand behind Aiden’s back. “Seriously, this was a hard decision for us to make. We weighed a lot of factors into whether we would talk to you about our pasts, to what extent, when you were all old enough, whether to talk to you separately or together…”

“We know about your past,” Cam said, still bothered by having so many people involved in this family meeting.

“You know about my past to the extent that Google knows about my past,” Franco replied, cutting into Cam’s resistant attitude.

“I have a past too,” Elizabeth added. “I didn’t start to exist the moment I gave birth.”

“Did you do something bad?” Aiden asked his mother. He knew Franco had been sick and done some awful things.

“That’s not what this is about,” Elizabeth answered. “Remember, we want to talk about asking for help when you need it.” She took a deep breath. “I’m not going to discuss any details. Don’t ask. I think you should know before you hear from someone else eventually,” she paused. “A man raped me when I was fifteen years old.”

“What?” Cameron had the most visceral reaction. He stood, wanting to find whoever had done that horrible thing to his mother and kill him. “Who is he? Where is he?” His mother had never looked so small to him before. She was a petite woman. She would have been even smaller at fifteen. Any man who would hurt her deserved to die.

“Calm down,” Elizabeth told him. “He’s dead.” She looked to Jake and Aiden to see how they were handling what she said. They were both stunned silent. “I’m okay,” she assured the boys. “I really am—and I have been okay for a long time. I promise.”

They nodded and Cameron sat down again. He was clearly the most upset because he understood better than the younger boys.

“When it happened, I was so ashamed that I didn’t want to ask for help. I didn’t want to tell anyone at all, but a secret like that will eat you alive. Someone found me after it happened, and that person got Bobbie to help me because she’s a nurse and she knew how to help. It took a while, but eventually I told other people. And you know what?” She paused, “The world didn’t end. And no one was mad at me and no one blamed me like I had convinced myself would happen. If someone ever hurts you, we don’t want you to be afraid of reactions because the people who love you are still going to love you, especially me and Franco.”

“I think you should be aware that there are resources other than your parents,” Bobbie added. “Like doctors, nurses, teachers, your school counselor, police officers, firemen, grandparents, family friends… if you’re hurt or in trouble, it’s okay to ask someone you trust for help.”

“I’m always here for any of you,” Laura added. “You’re all my grandchildren and I love you. I think another lesson to take from what happened to your mom is to be careful and to listen to what other people have to say too. No means no. No exceptions.”

“Yeah, I already got that speech,” Cam said, thinking of his sit-down sex-talk with his stepfather. Still reeling from the revelation about his mother, he had a better understanding of why Elizabeth had asked Franco to speak to him about sex from a man’s perspective. He was realizing more and more that his mother and Franco truly were always looking out for him. “I’m pretty sure Jake, Aiden, and I are not the type of people who would rape anyone.”

“I believe that too,” Laura said. “But you have to be careful so there’s no question about consent. And something could happen to one of you.”

“Nothing will happen to us,” Jake replied. He tried to sound confident, but he was having doubts, and the adults knew it. “Nothing like that. Boys don’t get raped.”

Franco swallowed. “You’re wrong, Jake.” Boys, even grown men, are sexually assaulted every day.” He felt his nerves burning and he glanced at Kevin who nodded his encouragement. Kevin knew his story better than anyone else. Laura had read his psychiatric file when he was arrested—a total invasion of his privacy, but they had worked through it.

He looked to Scotty, who knew very little about what Jim Harvey had done to him. He had no idea if Bobbie knew anything about his childhood traumas. He doubted Scott would have revealed it to anyone.

“Like your mother, I’m not going to go into detail. But…” he paused, gathering his courage. “When I was a little kid, my mother’s boyfriend did a lot of horrible things to me.” He paused, realizing he was glossing it over. “He abused me sexually.” There. He laid out the truth. He waited for the boys to react in some way, so he could decide how to continue, or if he should continue. He realized he feared that they would suddenly hate him and think he was disgusting—the things Jim Harvey drilled into his head so many years ago never left. They probably never would.

“You and your mom both freaked out when Jake mentioned Jim Harvey,” Cam recalled calmly. “He was her boyfriend, wasn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Franco nodded. “He tried to kidnap your mom and Jake a couple of years ago and Elizabeth and I didn’t realize Jake still thought about him. I guess it was a wakeup call for us that we needed to tell you guys who he was.”

“That man hurt you?” Jake asked. His complexion was drained of color. “He was big and mean and scary.”

“I thought so too,” Franco admitted. “Especially when I was a kid.”

“How old were you?” Cam asked. He seemed to be taking this news stoically.

“I was three the first time,” Franco answered softly.

Bobbie shook her head and put her hand over Scotty’s. She could sense that it hurt him to hear his son talk about being molested when he was a toddler. Scotty was tense, but quiet.

“It went on for a while,” Franco added. “My mom didn’t realize what was happening.”

“Why didn’t you tell her?” Aiden got up the courage to ask.

With compassion, Franco asked Aiden, “Why didn’t you tell your mom or me that you were being bullied at school?”

Aiden looked down for a moment. “I felt bad about it. I was embarrassed and I thought there was something wrong with me.”

“But there isn’t anything wrong with you,” Elizabeth reminded him. “You’re a sweet, smart, talented, wonderful child. And so was Franco.”

“Remember how you thought things would be worse if you told?” Franco reminded Aiden.

He nodded.

“I was afraid things would be worse if I told too. He threatened my mom and your uncle Andy—Drew. It was complicated, at least it was to a kid. No one helped me, and I didn’t deal with it until I was an adult. I had to see Kevin professionally to work through it.” He sighed. “Honestly, I’m still working through it.”

“You never, ever told anyone?” Jake asked.

He shook his head. “No. I only had my art as a way to deal with it.”

“Your mom didn’t help?” Jake asked. Betsy seemed nice and she seemed like she loved Franco. He couldn’t understand why she didn’t help. He knew Elizabeth would have protected him.

“It’s a long story I’ll tell you when you’re an adult if you still want to know,” Franco deflected. “What your mom and I wanted to do by telling you this, is not to lay our troubles at your feet, but to reinforce to you that it’s okay to ask for help. It’s imperative. If you’re in so much pain and keep it all to yourself, it may influence you to do stupid things or self-destructive things. Pain and fear cause even good people to make bad decisions sometimes.”

Elizabeth added, “It’s our job as parents to protect you. It’s not your job to protect us from being upset. Even if someone threatens you or us or anyone we care about, they’re manipulating you. Your safety is more important, and we will take care of you.”

“That really sucks,” Cameron commented. “No one should do stuff like that to anybody else.”

“No, they shouldn’t,” Scotty agreed, breaking his long silence. “If I had known I had a son and what that sonofabitch was doing to him, I would have stopped it. I’m here to tell you how much it hurts, as a parent, to fail your kids when they need you. Trust me, no matter what it is, if you’re hurt, your mom and dad want to help you.”

“You never failed me,” Franco told Scotty. “Life would have been different if I had grown up as your son. I wish I had. I’m lucky to have you now and I appreciate you and that you love me anyway, even though I haven’t been very loveable.”

Scotty nodded, ever uncomfortable with affection. “Parents hurt when their kids hurt,” he said. “Even if they’re 30 or 40 years late. I’m far more upset that my child was hurt than I would have been if he had been able to come to me and tell me he needed help. You have parents, grandparents, stepfamily, folks just claimed as family, if you ever need them. Parents take care of their kids.”

“Good parents do,” Kevin interjected. “Not everyone has good parents, but you boys do. Your mom and Franco love you beyond measure. I hope you know that.”

“Yeah, I do,” Cam answered. He realized just how much Franco loved him and his brothers and his mother when he insisted on taking his place in that crazy cult leader’s psychotic experiment. “When you told Shiloh that you had an awful childhood and it would be a blessing to forget it—you meant that, didn’t you?”

“Sort of,” Franco answered. “It was an easy sell because it came from a place of truth and because I was desperate to convince him to let me switch places with you. But I didn’t want to forget my life with our family. It was what I needed to do in that moment.”

“Aunt Bobbie helped mom,” Aiden said. “Why didn’t anyone help you?” He was still struggling with understanding how Franco had kept a horrible secret for so long.

“I wasn’t allowed to talk to anyone,” Franco told them. He had hoped there would not be so many questions about his past, but it was what it was. The boys were curious, and Aiden was very young and empathetic. It hurt him to know other people hurt.

“When my mom finally realized there was a problem, she tried to convince me that I had imagined everything, even my brother.”

“Were you sad?” Jake asked.

“I was a lot of things,” Franco answered. “Yeah, sad. Scared, angry, ashamed, confused… really confused.”

“Franco thought it was his job to protect his mother from dealing with the truth,” Kevin told the boys. “So, all those feelings kept him in this constant state of fear, shame, resentment, anger… I’m sure that the abuse was a contributing factor to how the brain tumor affected his reasoning and judgment.”

“That makes sense,” Cameron said.

“It doesn’t excuse anything I did when I was sick,” Franco added quickly.

“It sort-of filled in the puzzle pieces though,” Elizabeth told them.

Franco nodded. Maybe it did. Maybe it didn’t. He would never really be sure.

“Sometimes, when you think I’m not looking, I’ve seen you sad,” Aiden told both Elizabeth and Franco. “Why do you pretend not to be sad if you are? Is that the same as lying?”

“Most of the time we are happy,” Elizabeth assured him, ever astounded by Aiden’s observations. “No one is always happy. Life doesn’t work that way.”

“Do you pretend to be happy when you’re not?” Aiden pressed.

“If we’re with you guys, we’re happy. Most of the time,” Franco told them. “I didn’t pretend to be happy when Kiki died. Your mom didn’t pretend to be happy when Cameron was kidnapped.”

“But there are things only appropriate for adults to handle. That’s why we’re the parents. It’s at our discretion. We didn’t make the decision to have this conversation lightly,” Elizabeth reminded them. “Considering Betsy’s visit, Cameron getting kidnapped again, Trina’s dad being killed, and the dangerous situation in the city right now, we felt this was the right time. You’re old enough that you’re not always under our watch and care. You encounter people who might hurt you. We need you to know that if anything happens or if anyone threatens you in any way, we will protect you—someone in this room will protect you.”

“We all love you,” Laura reminded them. “Your mom and dad love you most of all. This wasn’t an easy conversation for them or for you.”

“But it was important,” Kevin added. “Especially now when danger seems to be lurking around every corner.”

A silence fell over the room as each one thought about how dangerous Port Charles was becoming.

Cam was the one to speak, “Thanks,” he said. “All of you… for taking care of us. Some kids don’t have that.” He stood and moved toward the couch where Jake, Elizabeth, Aiden, and Franco were sitting. “Scoot over,” he told Franco.

Franco easily picked up Aiden and put him on his lap. Cam sat down. He reached his palm out toward the middle of the group, indicating for his family to do the same. “Best family ever,” Cam announced as they moved their hands downward together.

“Best family ever!” They all repeated, moving their hands upward and out in a victorious motion.

—END


End file.
